F  li^ 

HIGH 

HAND 


140  rACfffC  A  VENUf 
7.0. 


THE  HIGH  HAND 


"I  have  the  impression  of  having  met  you  somewhere" 


THE 
HIGH  HAND 


BY 

JACQUES  FUTRELLE 


Author  of 
ELUSIVE  ISABEL.  ETC. 


With  Illustrations  by 

WILL  GREFE 


NEW    YORK 

GROSSET    &    DUNLAP 

PUBLISHERS 


COPYRIGHT  1911 
THE  BOBBS-MERRILL  COMPANY 


3SII 


CONTENTS 

Chapter  Page 

I  THE  MAKER  OF  PLOWS      ...            1 

II  JIM  WARREN  SITS  IN                      .           .11 

III  A  MAN,  A  GIRL  AND  A  DOG          .  .          21 

IV  THE  SEALED  PACKET          ...          28 
V  JIM  WARREN  DEALS  A  HAND         .           .          36 

VI  JIM  WARREN  SHUFFLES       ...          44 

VII  THE  TIMID  BURGLAR         .            .            .          53 

VIII  MARKING  THE  CARDS         .            ,           .          65 

IX  JIM  WARREN  TURNS  A  TRICK       .           .          75 

X  CAPRICIOUS  FATE               .            .            .          85 

XI  JIM  WARREN  RAISES           ...          96 

XII  THE  HIGH  HAND  WINS      .           .           .        107 

XIII  THE  DOUBLE-CROSS  .            .           .116 

XIV  THE  WONDER  GIRL  .            .            .127 
XV  THE  PEACE  CONFERENCE    .            .            .        138 

XVI  THE  RECOGNITION              .            .            .151 

XVII  JIM  WARREN  WINS  A  POT  .            .            .161 

XVIII  HALF-SPOKEN  TRUTHS       .           .           ,172 

XIX  JIM  WARREN  AWAKES        .           ,           .        182 

XX  CAUGHT  IN  THE  TENTACLES           .           .        191 

XXI  REALIZATION          .           .           ,           .201 

XXII  JIM  WARREN,  GRAFTER     .           ^          S.        210 

XXIII  THE  GREAT  CHANGE                    ..         -.       223 


CONTENTS—  Continued 

Page 

236 
XXIV    BIG  STAKES 

252 
XXV    THE  BIG  IDEA 

f\  /-O 

XXVI    FRANQUES  PAYS  A  DEBT     . 

281 

XXVII    THE  LAST  STAND    . 

291 

XXVIII    THE  NEXT  GOVERNOR       .  « 


THE  HIGH  HAND 


THE  HIGH   HAND 

CHAPTER   I 

THE  MAKER  OF  PLOWS 

OUT  of  the  chaos  of  mediocrity  he  came, 
Jim  Warren,  of  Warburton — up  through 
the  murk  of  the  foundry,  the  din  of  the  steel 
room,  the  clangor  of  the  machine-shop;  up  by 
brawn  and  brain,  until  one  day  quite  natu 
rally  he  took  his  place  at  the  big  flat-topped 
desk  in  the  superintendent's  office,  away  from 
and  yet  within  sound  of  the  roar  of  machinery 
and  the  thunder  of  trip-hammers.  He  loved 
the  mighty  smashing  and  the  crashing  of  the 
trip-hammers.  There  was  something  sinister 
and  merciless  in  the  ponderous  power  behind 
the  straight-out  spurt  of  sparks  from  white- 
hot  metal;  and  yet,  so  gentle  was  it,  so  per- 
i 


THE   HIGH   HAND 

fectly  could  that  vast  power  be  held  in  check, 
that  a  steady  hand  might  shell  peanuts  with 
it  and  not  so  much  as  bruise  a  kernel.  He 
liked  to  remember  that  there  had  been  a  time 
when  he  could  shatter  the  crystal  of  a  watch 
with  a  ten-ton  blow  so  accurately  calculated 
that  the  hands  of  the  watch,  a  hair's  breadth 
away,  were  not  touched.  He  used  to  do  it  oc 
casionally  for  the  amusement  of  visitors  to  the 
factory. 

One  such  incident  he  had  always  remem 
bered.  Mr.  Chase,  manager  of  the  factory, 
had  brought  two  persons  into  the  room  where 
the  trip-hammers  toiled — a  man  and  a  girl. 
He  hadn't  noticed  the  man,  for  the  girl  had 
filled  his  gaze — a  child  of  fifteen  she  was,  slim 
and  wonder-eyed.  She  had  seemed  so  out  of 
place  there  in  the  grime  and  the  smoke  and  the 
glare  of  the  furnaces.  The  three  of  them 
paused  outside  the  circle  of  flying  sparks ;  and, 
fascinated,  breathless,  she  watched  him  as  he 
worked.  Finally  Mr.  Chase,  with  some  re- 

2 


THE    MAKER    OF    PLOWS 

mark  to  the  child,  laid  his  watch  upon  the  an 
vil  beneath  the  great  hammer  and  nodded  to 
Jim  Warren.  The  hammer  descended  once. 
Mr.  Chase  picked  up  the  watch  and  handed  it 
to  the  girl.  Its  crystal  was  crushed  to  a  pow 
der.  The  girl  held  it  to  her  ear  for  an  instant, 
then  laughed  delightedly  and  placed  her  own 
watch,  a  tiny,  fragile  trinket,  upon  the  anvil. 
Again  the  hammer  fell.  Jim  Warren  had 
never  forgotten  the  expression  on  her  face  as 
she  came  forward  timidly  and  took  the  watch 
in  her  hand.  Its  crystal  had  merely  been 
cracked!  He  had  never  seen  the  girl  again, 
but  he  remembered  that  she  smiled  back  at  him 
as  she  went  out. 

That  had  been  eight  or  nine  years  ago. 
Shortly  afterward  he  had  been  placed  in 
charge  of  the  machine-shop  and,  three  or  four 
years  later,  had  taken  his  place  at  the  super 
intendent's  desk.  Lean  and  sinewy  he  was  now 
as  in  those  days  in  the  hammer  room — as  hard 
of  fist,  as  strong  of  jaw;  but  many  refine- 
3 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

ments  had  come  to  him.  The  grime  had 
worked  out  His  eyes  were  bluer  here  in  the 
office,  away  from  the  glow  of  the  furnaces; 
his  hair  was  redder  and  his  freckles  stood  forth 
in  all  their  pristine  glory  against  his  cleaner, 
fairer  skin.  Remained  that  haunting  sugges 
tion  of  a  grin  about  his  mouth,  a  whimsical 
eccentricity  radiating  out  of  honest  optimism; 
remained  his  ready  laugh  and  his  sheer,  healthy 
animalism ;  remained  his  love  for  his  work  and 
the  cleanliness  of  mind  which  grew  out  of  it. 
And  to  this  had  been  added  something,  a  per 
sonal  absolutism,  a  necessary  touch  of  author 
ity,  an  utter  self-reliance  and  that  indefinable 
quality  which  comes  from  wide  reading  and 
wider  understanding. 

For  a  time  Jim  Warren  had  been  content 
with  the  future  as -he  saw  it.  Some  day  when 
Mr.  Chase  chose  to  retire  he  would  be  made 
manager  of  this  big  factory  with  its  fifteen 
hundred  men;  perhaps  he  might  become  even 
a  stock-holder,  for  he  had  saved  something  out 
4 


THE   MAKER   OF    PLOWS 

of  his  two  thousand  a  year — so,  until  his  field 
of  vision  was  unexpectedly  widened  and  a  great 
dazzling  perspective  opened  before  him.  In 
that  instant  ambition  was  born.  It  came 
through  a  casual  question  put  to  him  by  old 
Bob  Allaire,  a  grizzled  veteran  of  the  foundry. 
"Why  don't  you  go  into  politics,  super?" 
the  old  man  had  asked.  "Us  fellows  who  work 
for  a  livin'  are  good  and  plenty  tired  o'  this 
here  Francis  Everard  Lewis.  He's  too  busy 
makin'  his  own  pile  to  do  anything  for  us  and 
we'd  put  out  a  labor  candidate  in  a  minute  if 
we  could  find  the  man.  Might  not  do  much 
this  time,  but  looks  to  me  like  you  might  have 
a  chance  next  time.  They're  fifteen  hundred 
of  us  in  the  shops  and  twelve  hundred'd  vote 
for  you  for  anything  from  street-sweeper  to 
president  Only  reason  the  other  three  hun 
dred  won't  vote  for  you  is  'cause  they're  under 
age;  but  if  the  wust  comes  to  the  wust" — and 
the  old  man  chuckled — "we'll  make  'em  vote 
anyhow." 

5 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

The  possibility  of  a  political  career  had 
never  occurred  to  Jim  Warren  until  that  mo 
ment,  but  the  thought  stole  through  him  warm- 
ingly,  as  the  glow  of  wine.  He  seemed  pre 
occupied  as  he  made  his  way  back  to  the  office 
and,  once  there,  he  sat  for  an  hour  staring  out 
unseeingly  upon  the  ugly  litter  of  the  iron- 
yard.  After  all,  this  work  of  his  was  very 
monotonous,  humdrum,  prosaic,  uninteresting. 
Suddenly  that  contented  future  that  he  had 
grown  to  look  forward  to  grew  empty  in  pros 
pect.  It  meant  nothing.  Even  as  manager — 
and  it  might  be  a  dozen  years  before  he  won 
that  place — there  would  be  nothing  beyond. 
But  in  the  political  field  there  would  be  no  limit 
to  ambition ;  he  might  go  on,  and  on,  and  on ! 

Knowing  nothing  of  politics  beyond  the  cas 
ual  chitchat  of  the  newspapers — and  he  had 
read  little  of  that — Jim  Warren  started  out  to 
learn  something.  It  was  not  that  he  had  de 
cided  to  take  a  hand  in  the  game ;  he  was  merely 
looking  over  the  rules.  The  further  he  went 
6 


THE    MAKER   OF    PLOWS 

in  his  quest  for  information  the  more  aston 
ished  he  was  at  the  conditions  he  found  in  his 
own  particular  city  and  his  own  particular 
state.  Commonplace  enough  they  were,  but 
marvelous  and  incomprehensible  to  Jim  War 
ren,  because  he  had  known  nothing  of  such 
things  in  the  beginning.  He  had  heard  ru 
mors,  yes ;  but  here  he  was  finding  them  to  be 
true! 

On  the  one  hand  was  Francis  Everard 
Lewis,  who,  beginning  as  a  penniless  lawyer 
a  dozen  years  previously,  had  risen  to  opulence 
in  the  ten  years  he  had  been  in  the  legislature 
from  the  Warburton  district  on  a  salary  of 
eight  hundred  dollars  a  year!  He  had  no 
other  income  and  made  no  further  pretense  of 
practising  his  profession.  Yet,  not  only  had 
he  grown  rich,  but  he  had  become  political  dic 
tator  of  his  end  of  the  state.  His  power  was 
absolute,  his  will  undisputed  within  his  own 
kingdom.  He  made  men  and  unmade  them  at 
a  word;  he  made  laws  and  unmade  them  at  a 

7 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

nod;  his  host  of  followers  stuck  like  hound  to 
heel. 

Jim  Warren  wondered. 

On  the  other  hand,  Big  Tom  Simmonds,  a 
saloon-keeper,  who,  in  those  scant  years  when 
his  machine  was  able  to  wrest  the  city  of  War- 
burton  from  Lewis'  grip,  was  monarch  of  all 
he  surveyed.  His  throne  was  a  small  round 
table  in  an  obscure  corner  of  his  bar-room.  In 
power  he  was  a  despot,  jamming  ordinances  of 
his  own  liking  down  the  throat  of  his  city, 
grabbing  a  contract  here  and  there,  selling  a 
franchise  now  and  then;  and  when  out  of 
power  he  spent  his  time  planning  to  get  back. 
He,  too,  had  grown  opulent  and  fat.  There 
was  no  enmity  between  Francis  Everard  Lewis 
and  Big  Tom  Simmonds.  They  understood 
each  other  perfectly. 

Commonplace  enough,  all  this,  as  I  have 
said,  but  Jim  Warren's  clean  mind,  failing  to 
understand  how  such  conditions  had  become 
possible,  reeled  at  the  rottenness  of  it  all.  Two 


THE    MAKER   OF    PLOWS 

or  three  things  he  could  lay  his  calloused  hands 
on  and  understand.  First  and  foremost,  of 
course,  Lewis  was  a  crook,  else  he  could  never 
have  done  the  things  he  had  done  and  grown 
rich  at  it ;  he  could  never  have  held  his  power 
save  by  corruption  and  the  prostitution  of  of 
fice,  and  bribery;  and  if  he  had  given  bribes 
some  one  had  received  them!  Big  Tom  Sim- 
monds  was  of  the  same  type,  cast  in  a  coarser 
mold. 

So  this  was  the  particular  brand  of  political 
knavery  that  afflicted  his  city  and  state!  An 
unpalatable  mess,  on  the  surface  at  least;  but 
what  a  gorgeous  opportunity  for  a  young  man 
who  was  immune  to  the  lure  of  gold!  In  the 
matter  of  legislation  he  would  be  useless  single- 
ihanded,  but  if  he  got  in  right  what  a  stunning 
frow  he  could  kick  up !  But  getting  in  right ! — 
how  could  it  be  done  ?  He  would  have  to  pass 
in  review  before  one  or  both  of  the  bosses — 
Lewis  and  Simmonds — and  kotow  to  the  earth. 
But  if  he  could  get  his  hooks  in — 

9 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

It  was  in  contemplation  of  this  evil  brew 
that  an  idea  came  to  Jim  Warren — the  big 
idea !  Slowly,  as  the  big  idea  disseminated  it 
self  through  his  gray  matter  and  he  was  able 
to  get  a  good  grip  on  it,  a  grin  grew  on  his 
face.  The  grin  became  a  chuckle,  the  chuckle 
a  deep-throated  laugh.  Then  suddenly  his 
freckled  face  became  grave,  his  sky-blue  eyes 
deeply  thoughtful,  his  whimsical  mouth  hard- 
set. 

"Obviously,"  he  said  to  himself,  "this  game 
is  played  with  marked  cards.  I  think  I'll 
mark  me  a  pack  and  sit  in.  If  I  can  get  by 
once  with  any  job,  city  or  state,  I'll" — he 
laughed  nervously — "hang  it,  I'll  be  the  next 
governor." 


10 


CHAPTER   II 

JIM    WARREN    SITS   IN 

"T  Y  THEN  a  wise  man  wants  water,"  says 
V  V  the  yogi,  "he  goes  to  the  well."  Like 
wise,  when  a  wise  man  wants  a  political  job  he 
goes  to  the  source  of  supply.  So,  unashamed, 
Jim  Warren  called  at  the  Hotel  Stanton,  where 
Francis  Everard  Lewis  lived,  and  inquired  for 
him.  The  clerk  was  sorry,  but  Mr.  Lewis  was 
out  of  town  and  wouldn't  return  for  two  or 
three  days.  However,  there  was  his  confiden 
tial  man,  Mr.  Franques — <rthat  gentleman 
standing  just  by  the  marble  column  looking 
this  way." 

Jim  Warren  had  heard  of  Lewis'  henchman, 

so  he  turned  now  and  look  at  him  curiously. 

He  had  expected  a  round-paunched,  red-faced, 

short-legged,  diamond-bespangled  individual — 

ii 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

a  sort  of  sublimated  heeler  type;  he  saw,  in 
stead,  a  tall,  lank,  swarthy,  graven-faced, 
dusty-looking  person,  well  past  middle  age, 
with  a  pair  of  evil  eyes  in  the  head  of  him.  It 
just  happened  at  that  instant  that  Franques 
was  making  an  inventory  of  Jim  Warren's  per 
son  ;  and  Jim  Warren  felt,  oddly,  that  some  one 
was  going  through  him  with  a  search-warrant. 
Quite  involuntarily  he  put  his  hand  on  his 
watch,  after  which  he  went  forward  and  in 
troduced  himself. 

Yes,  Franques  knew  who  he  was — superin 
tendent  of  the  Atlas  Plow  Works,  wasn't  he? 
If  his  business  with  Mr.  Lewis  wasn't  per 
sonal—  Political  ?  Oh,  yes.  Would  he  mind 
stating  it?  Mr.  Lewis  was  a  very  busy  man 
and  matters  of  this  sort  were  usually  referred 
to  him,  Franques.  Perhaps  they  could  talk 
better  at  a  little  place  he  knew  around  the  cor 
ner.  If  Mr.  Warren  would  go  ahead  he  would 
join  him  there  in  five  minutes. 

So,  in  this  casual  manner,  they  met  and 
12 


JIM   WARREN    SITS    IN 

talked — that  is,  Jim  Warren  talked  while 
Franques  listened — talked  with  a  naivete  and 
frankness  and  directness  that  Franques  had 
never  met  before  in  a  grown-up  man.  It  was 
a  candid  statement  of  his  desire  to  get  into  the 
political  game  and  an  outline  of  his  hopes  and 
his  ambitions,  made  without  reserve.  Coupled 
therewith  was  a  casual  mention  of  the  fact 
that  he  had  twelve  hundred  labor  votes  laid 
by  for  a  rainy  day ;  and  as  labor  wanted  a  can 
didate  there  was  no  reason  why  the  loyalty  and 
zeal  of  those  twelve  hundred  should  not  win 
others. 

"But  will  those  men  disregard  party  ties  to 
vote  for  you  ?"  Franques  wanted  to  know.  His 
beady  eyes  were  fixed  intently,  searchingly, 
upon  Jim  Warren's  face. 

"They  will,"  Jim  Warren  asserted  without 
hesitation.  "I've  worked  with  'em  for  years ; 
they're  friends  of  mine.  They  like  me  and 
believe  in  me.  They  would  do  things  for  me." 

"And  what  particular  office  do  you  want?" 

13 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

"I  don't  know,"  Jim  Warren  confessed, 
with  a  grin.  "What  have  you  got?" 

Franques  disregarded  the  question. 

"Suppose,"  he  asked  in  turn — "suppose  Mr. 
Lewis  or — or  some  one  else,  say,  should  in. 
terest  himself  in  your  behalf?" 

"I'd  do  the  proper  thing  by  him,  of  course, 
whatever  it  is." 

"And  then,  suppose  he  shouldn't?" 

"Well"— again  that  grin— "I'd  just  natu 
rally  have  to  get  into  the  game  anyway.  I 
don't  know  if  you  know  it,  but  there's  quite  a 
lot  of  feeling  against  Lewis  among  the  men 
who  work,  and  twelve  hundred  votes  will  do  to 
start  with.  I  could  poll  the  vote  of  my  factory 
solidly  against  Lewis  or  any  other  man.  I'd 
rather  have  Lewis'  support.  Do  you  get  it?" 

That's  about  all  there  was  to  that  first  in 
terview.  Jim  Warren  went  out  and  Franques 
sat  musing  for  a  long  time  with  a  strange  light 
playing  in  his  evil  eyes.  Vaguely  he  felt  that 
at  last  he  had  found  a  man  he  had  been  look- 
14 


JIM    WARREN    SITS   IN 

ing  for.  Jim  Warren's  red  head  and  his  square 
jaw  and  the  wholesome  manner  of  him  were 
political  assets.  A  man  of  his  personality 
would  have  to  be  reckoned  with  if,  by  any 
chance,  he  should  get  into  the  game. 

"But  he's  a  fool  in  politics — simple  as  a 
child,"  he  mused.  The  thought  seemed  to 
please  him,  for  his  thin  lips  writhed  in  a 
smile.  "I  think,  Jim  Warren" — he  added 
after  a  moment — "I  think  we  may  be  able  to 
do  some  business — you  and  I." 

Meanwhile  Jim  Warren  passed  down  the 
street  with  an  exultant  grin  on  his  freckled 
face,  his  heels  clicking  cheerfully  on  the  side 
walk. 

"I  think,  Mr.  Franques,"  he  observed  enig 
matically — "I  think  I  slipped  one  over  on  you 
that  time !" 

Three  or  four  days  later  there  was  a  second 
interview  between  Jim  Warren  and  Franques. 
This  time  Franques  did  most  of  the  talking. 

"I've  been  feeling  out  public  opinion,  Mr. 
15 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

Warren,"  he  began  slowly,  "and  frankly  I  am 
surprised  at  the  sentiment  in  favor  of  a  labor 
candidate— surprised  at  the  strength  of  that 
sentiment.  There  seems  to  be  a  certain  ill  feel 
ing  toward  Mr.  Lewis  that — " 

"There  is,"  Jim  Warren  agreed. 

"And  a  particularly  strong  feeling  for  the 
right  man — Jim  Warren." 

"Yes?"  Jim  Warren  gasped. 

"Also,"  Franques  went  on  unemotionally, 
"I've  been  making  some  inquiries  about  Jim 
Warren.  One  must  know  people  with  whom 
one  does  business.  I  am  told  that  Warren  is  a 
man  who  will  do  a  thing  if  he  says  he  will." 

"He  will." 

"I  am  informed  that  if  Jim  Warren  makes  a 
bargain  he  will  stick  to  it?" 

"He  will." 

"I  infer  that  if  Jim  Warren  should  be  placed 
in  a  public  office  and  it  should  be  in  his  power 
to — to  favor  the  man  who  had  placed  him 
there,  he  would  do  it?" 
16 


JIM    WARREN    SITS   IN 

"He  would." 

"I  infer  that  if  I  should  make  a  proposition 
— an  unusual  one — to  Jim  Warren  he  would 
either  accept  it  or" — the  beady  eyes  were  alive 
as  coals — "or  turn  it  down  and  keep  his  mouth 
shut?" 

"He  would." 

"I  imagine  Jim  Warren  would  be  grateful 
enough  to  the  man  who  had  made  him  politi 
cally  to  be  guided  to  a  certain  extent  by  that 
man's  advice  in  public  affairs." 

"He  would." 

For  a  long  time  the  eyes  of  the  two  men  met 
unwaveringly.  There  was  nervous  exultation 
in  Jim  Warren's  face;  Franques'  was  inscru 
table  as  stone. 

"In  view  of  all  this,"  Franques  broke  the 
silence,  "I'm  going  to  make  a  proposition  that 
will  astonish  you.  You  may  take  it  or  leave  it. 
I  shall  only  ask  a  promise  of  absolute  silence 
on  your  part  if  you  refuse  it." 

"I  promise,"  said  Jim  Warren. 
17 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

And  Franques  made  his  proposition.  Jim 
Warren  listened,  while  his  sky-blue  eyes  grew 
large  with  wonder,  amazement,  pleasure;  his 
grin  became  a  fixture ;  his  sinewy  fingers  were 
interlaced.  The  big  idea  was  coming  through ! 
Lewis'  henchman  was  making  it  possible!  It 
was  all  as  if  this  proposition  had  been  planned 
to  further  the  big  idea!  .  .  .  Franques 
stopped,  with  an  abrupt  question: 

"Yes  or  no?" 

"Yes !"  said  Jim  Warren. 

"Very  well— that's  all  there  is  to  it !"  Fran 
ques  arose.  "I  think  I've  explained  every 
thing  that's  necessary.  My  motives  are  not 
germane  to  the  matter  in  hand.  Of  course, 
you  understand  we  must  not  see  each  other 
again ;  we  must  be  wholly  disassociated.  Any 
communication  between  us,  however  urgent, 
must  be  through  indirect  channels." 

"I  get  you !"  said  Jim  Warren. 

Shortly  before  four  o'clock  the  next  after 
noon  Jim  Warren  sent  an  office  boy  to  the 
18 


JIM    WARREN    SITS    IN 

heads  of  the  various  departments  of  the  shops 
with  the  request  that  immediately  after  the 
whistle  blew  at  quitting  time  the  men  should 
assemble  in  the  iron-yard;  he  would  detain 
them  only  a  moment.  There,  mounted  on  a 
heap  of  pig-iron,  he  addressed  them. 

"Boys,"  he  said,  "I  just  want  to  tell  you 
that  I'm  a  candidate  for  the  legislature,  to  suc 
ceed  Francis  Everard  Lewis.  He  has  held  the 
job  for  ten  years,  and  has  built  one  tenement 
house  for  every  one  of  those  years — on  a  sal 
ary  of  eight  hundred  dollars  per!  He  stands 
for  the  octopus ;  I  stand  for  you  fellows.  I'm 
after  his  scalp.  Are  you  with  me?" 

There  was  an  astonished  silence  for  one  sec 
ond,  then  a  yelp  of  approval.  Through  the 
tumult  came  shrilly  the  voice  of  old  Bob  Al 
laire  : 

"Go  to  him,  Jim ;  go  to  him !" 

"There's  a  little  job  of  housework  to  be 
done  in  the  capitol  that'll  make  the  cleaning  of 
the  Augean  stables  look  like  an  odd  job  for  a 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

carpet-sweeper,"  Jim  Warren  went  on.  "Take 
it  from  me,  I'm  going  to  do  that  bit  of  house 
work.  Before  I  finish  the  crooks'll  be  diving 
out  of  the  windows." 

That  was  Jim  .Warren's  first  political  speech. 


20 


CHAPTER   III 

A  MAN,  A  GIRL  AND  A  DOG 

JIM  WARREN  left  the  revolving  door  of 
the  Sandringham  National  Bank  fairly 
spinning  behind  him  as  he  entered  and  strode 
across  the  tessellated  floor  to  the  nearest  wicket 
in  the  polished  brass  grating.  The  wan  wisp 
of  a  clerk  raised  his  tired,  uninterested  gaze 
from  his  books ;  as  he  met  this  red-headed  per 
son  face  to  face  he  smiled.  They  always  did ; 
that  was  one  of  Jim  Warren's  political  assets. 

"Hello!"  Jim  Warren  greeted  cheerily.  "Is 
President  Chisholm  here?" 

"Yes,  sir;  but  just  at  the  moment  he's  en 
gaged,"  replied  the  clerk.  "Perhaps  the  cashier 
or  his  assistant — " 

"No;  it's  a  personal  matter,"  Jim  Warren 
interrupted.  "I've  a  letter  of  introduction  to 

21 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

him.  Please  tell  him  I'm  here — Jim  Warren, 
of  Warburton." 

The  clerk  nodded  and  summoned  a  uni 
formed  page,  who  took  the  message  and  van 
ished  in  the  labyrinthine  corridors  of  brass. 

"Mr.  Chisholm  will  see  you  in  ten  minutes, 
sir,"  he  reported  on  his  return. 

"All  right,  sonny." 

Day  by  day  at  a  given  time  the  picture  in 
the  outer  office  of  a  bank  is  always  the  same. 
There's  the  special  officer  leaning  bulkily 
against  a  pillar  with  the  weight  of  the  world 
on  his  brow;  a  fat  woman  at  a  small  table 
drawing  a  check  and  making  a  hard  job  of  it ; 
a  nervous,  bald-headed  man  trying  to  negotiate 
a  note  for  seven  hundred  and  thirty-eight  dol 
lars,  said  note  being  unindorsed;  four  or  five 
heterogeneous  persons  lined  up  in  front  of  the 
paying  teller's  window,  and  here  and  there 
some  one  waiting. 

In  this  instance  there  were  two  persons  wait 
ing — Jim  Warren  and  a  girl — a  pretty  girl,  a 
22 


A    MAN,    A    GIRL    AND    A    DOG 

distractingly  pretty  girl.  Jim  Warren  glanced 
at  her  because  she  was  pretty;  and  his  gaze 
lingered  because  of  a  vague  impression  that 
he  had  seen  her  somewhere  before.  There 
was  something  oddly  familiar  in  her  graceful 
slenderness,  in  the  tilt  of  her  head,  in  the  set 
of  her  straight  shoulders.  The  girl  glanced 
at  him  quite  casually  and  for  an  instant  their 
eyes  met.  Somewhere  at  some  time  he  had 
seen  her  before.  He  wondered  where ! 

Enter — the  dog ;  just  a  plain  dog  with  a  leg 
on  each  corner  and  a  tail  at  the  far  end;  a 
spotted  dog,  with  his  wanton  hide  tucked  full 
of  reckless  deviltry.  He  had  followed  a  cus 
tomer  into  the  bank  and,  having  nothing  better 
to  do,  decided  to  make  friends  with  this  red 
headed  man.  Jim  Warren  snapped  his  fingers ; 
the  dog  crouched  playfully  and  barked. 

"None  of  that,  young  fellow !"  Jim  Warren 
warned.  "That  big  man  over  there  with  all 
that  uniform  on  will  get  your  number!" 

"Woof!"  said  the  dog. 
23 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

Given  one  dog,  one  red-headed  young  man 
and  a  distractingly  pretty  girl  ten  feet  away,  it 
was  inevitable  that  something  should  happen. 
Something  did.  The  distractingly  pretty  girl 
began  it  by  dropping  a  glove.  Jim  Warren 
stepped  forward  to  restore  it.  The  dog,  quick 
to  see  the  opportunity  for  a  game,  beat  Jim 
Warren  to  it.  In  just  eight  seconds  the  dog, 
with  the  glove  dangling  from  his  mouth,  was 
all  over  the  shop,  with  Warren  in  hot  pursuit. 
The  special  officer  looked  on  heavily. 

"Goodness!"  said  the  distractingly  pretty 
girl. 

"Confound  you!"  said  Jim  Warren.  "Come 
here  and  I'll  kick  all  the  spots  off  you!" 

"This  is  bully !"  said  the  dog. 

And  there  they  went.  Patiently  and  sys 
tematically  Jim  Warren  chevied  the  dog 
around  the  office.  A  dozen  times  he  stretched 
out  a  hand  and  grasped — the  air.  Finally  he 
stopped  and  glanced  helplessly  at  the  distract 
ingly  pretty  girl.  She  smiled ;  he  grinned. 
24 


A    MAN,    A    GIRL   AND    A    DOG 

"Don't  trouble  yourself,"  she  protested.  "It 
doesn't  matter,  really." 

"I'll  get  it,"  Jim  Warren  declared.  "Come 
here,  you  brute !" 

"Woof!" 

"Nice  doggie !  Bring  it  here !" 

"Woof!    Woof!" 

Scoldings,  coaxings,  threatenings,  beggings 
— they  all  came  to  the  same.  Finally  the  spe 
cial  officer  deigned  to  unbend  his  bulk  and 
join  in  the  chase.  Attacked  in  the  rear  the 
dog  whirled.  At  just  that  psychological  in 
stant  Jim  Warren's  fingers  closed  on  his  tail 
and  the  game  was  over. 

The  distractingly  pretty  girl  was  smiling 
when  he  returned  the  glove  to  her. 

"Thank  you  so  much,"  she  said. 

"I'm  afraid  he's  ruined  it,"  Jim  Warren 
apologized.  "He's  a  mischievous  little — " 

He  stopped  suddenly  and  stared  at  the  watch 
on  her  bosom — a  tiny,  fragile  trinket.  When 
he  looked  up  her  eyes  were  fixed  on  his.  He 
25 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

had  seen  her  before,  but — where?  When? 
How  ?  As  he  looked  it  occurred  to  him  there 
was  something  of  his  own  perplexity  in  her 
face. 

"It  doesn't  matter,  really,"  she  was  saying. 
"It's  too  bad  you  should  have  put  yourself  to 
so  much  trouble." 

"No  trouble  at  all,"  he  replied  vacantly. 
Again  his  eyes  traveled  to  the  watch  on  her 
bosom.  "I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  said  hastily. 

Seemingly  oblivious  of  his  embarrassment, 
the  girl  smiled  again  and  the  incident  was 
closed.  The  uniformed  page  spoke  to  him. 

"Mr.  Chisholm  will  see  you  now,  sir." 

Jim  Warren  was  just  about  to  pass  through 
the  door  into  the  president's  private  suite  when 
he  met  a  man  coming  out — a  smug,  complacent, 
round-faced  individual  with  puffy  eyes.  Jim 
Warren  recognized  him  instantly.  It  was 
Dwight  Tillinghast,  speaker  of  the  legislature  ; 
he  had  seen  photographs  and  cartoons  of  him 
too  often  to  make  a  mistake.  Tillinghast  stared 
26 


A   MAN,    A    GIRL   AND   A   DOG 

at  him  oddly  and,  after  Jim  Warren  had  dis 
appeared  inside,  turned  and  glanced  back  at 
the  door. 

Evidently  the  distractingly  pretty  girl  had 
been  waiting  for  Tillinghast 

"Papa,"  she  queried,  "do  you  know  the 
young  man  you  met  at  the  door?" 

"His  name  is  Warren,"  he  replied  absently 
— "Jim  Warren,  of  Warburton." 

"Who  is  he?" 

"Nobody  particularly,"  was  the  reply.  "An 
other  upstart  who  has  announced  himself  for 
the  legislature  against  Lewis." 

"Oh!"  said  the  distractingly  pretty  girl. 
She  followed  him  out  the  door  in  silence.  "His 
face  was  familiar  somehow.  I  must  have  seen 
his  photograph  in  one  of  the  newspapers." 

"I  dare  say." 

They  walked  on.  The  distractingly  pretty 
girl  didn't  mention  the  incident  of  the  glove. 
There  was  no  reason  why  she  should ;  she  just 
'didn't 

27 


CHAPTER   IV 

THE  SEALED  PACKET 

MR.  CHISHOLM  didn't  trouble  himself 
to  rise  when  Jim  Warren  entered;  for 
a  moment  he  didn't  even  look  around — merely 
continued  writing.    Jim  Warren  sat  down. 

"Well,  Mr.  Warren?"  he  queried  abruptly 
at  last.  "You  have  a  letter  of  introduction  to 
me?" 

"From  Mr.  Chase,  of  the  Atlas  Plow 
iWorks,"  Jim  Warren  volunteered. 

Mr.  Chisholm  looked  interested. 

"Oh,  I  didn't  know,"  he  said  half  apolo 
getically.  "Glad  to  see  you." 

He  read  the  letter,  then  turned  in  his  chair 
and  settled  back  for  a  good  look  at  his  visitor. 

"So  you're  the  young  man  who's  been  kick 
ing  up  the  row  in  Warburton?"  he  asked. 
28 


THE    SEALED    PACKET 

"The  same."  Jim  Warren  grinned. 

"It  seems  your  announcement  for  the  legis 
lature  to  oppose  Lewis  has  started  things  go 
ing  down  there?" 

"It's  done  all  of  that."  Jim  Warren  grinned 
again.  "And  I  haven't  really  begun  yet,"  he 
explained.  "One  or  two  labor  organizations 
have  declared  for  me  and  Lewis'  machine  was 
a  bit  surprised — that's  all." 

"I  see.    What  are  your  politics?" 

"Haven't  any.  I'm  going  to  be  elected  to 
the  legislature  on  suspicion — suspicion  that  if 
I'm  not  entirely  honest  I  am,  at  least,  a  darned 
sight  more  honest  than  some  of  the  other  men 
Warburton  has  sent  up  here — Francis  Everard 
Lewis  in  particular." 

Mr.  Chisholm  smiled  courteously. 

"But  you'll  have  to  have  the  indorsement  of 
one  of  the  machines,  of  course?" 

"Not  enough  to  notice.  What's  going  to 
happen  is  the  machines  will  go  cahoots  to  clean 
me  up.  Lewis  and  Simmonds  will  make  some 
29 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

sort  of  deal— and  I  may  add  that  I'm  going  to 
whale  the  life  out  of  all  of  'em." 

"Well,  this  is  interesting,"  and  the  smile 
broadened  on  Mr.  Chisholm's  face.  "Of 
course,  I  know  nothing  about  it,  but  I've  al 
ways  heard  the  machines  there  were  invin 
cible?" 

"They  have  been,  but  I'm  just  on  the  verge 
of  getting  a  strangle  hold  on  'em  and  it's  all 
off.  I  am  going  to  get  their  goat." 

Mr.  Chisholm  laughed  outright.  It  was  so 
unusual  an  occurrence — his  laughing — that  his 
secretary  turned  and  stared  at  him.  Jim  War 
ren  winked  at  her  solemnly. 

"Well,  if  you  win  what  can  you  do?"  Mr. 
Chisholm  felt  refreshed,  exhilarated  by  con 
tact  with  this  man;  the  lines  of  his  face  re 
laxed;  he  was  enjoying  himself.  "You  are 
only  one  man — you'll  have  only  one  vote.  Of 
course,  you'll  have  to  tie  up  with  one  of  the 
big  parties  if  you  are  elected?" 

"Not  this  summer."  Jim  Warren  grinned 
30 


THE  SEALED  PACKET 

again.  "I'll  play  the  hand  as  it's  dealt.  What 
ever  else  I  do,  I  am  going  to  clean  that  capitol 
of  crooks ;  and,  as  I  understand  it  now,  that'll 
leave  no  one  there  but  me  and  the  elevator 
man."  He  paused.  "And  he  may  go,"  he 
added. 

The  business  of  being  president  of  a  bank 
tends  to  make  skeptics  of  men.  Mr.  Chisholm 
was  a  skeptic. 

"So  you're  going  to  reform  the  state,  are 
you?"  he  asked  slowly.  "That's  what  all  re 
formers  say.  I  don't  mean  to  reflect  on  your 
intentions,"  he  hastened  to  add.  "I  am  merely 
stating  a  platitude." 

"I  get  you,"  and  Jim  Warren  nodded.  "I'm 
the  exception,  you  see.  Previous  to  this  all 
freshmen  in  politics  have  gone  in  to  take  the 
dilemma  by  the  horns.  Well,  I'm  going  to 
take  it  by  the  tail.  Not  only  will  I  make  Lewis 
quit  in  this  fight,  but  I'm  going  to  be  the  next 
governor  of  this  state" — there  was  not  the 
slightest  trace  of  doubt  in  his  manner — "and 
31 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

if  I  like  that  job  I  may  decide  to  be  president — 
I  don't  know." 

For  an  instant  Mr.  Chisholm  merely  stared 
at  Jim  Warren  the  while  he  permitted  himself 
to  philosophize  upon  the  rashness  of  youth, 
the  absurdity  of  exaggeration,  and  a  few  other 
things  to  the  point ;  then  suddenly  the  ease  of 
his  manner  fell  away  from  him.  He  was  the 
curt,  busy  banker  again. 

"I  believe,  Mr.  Warren,  you  came  to  see  me 
on  business?" 

"Yes;  but  before  we  go  any  further  would 
you  mind  answering  just  one  question?  Is 
Dwight  Tillinghast  connected  with  your  bank 
in  any  capacity?" 

"No ;  he's  merely  a  depositor.    Why  ?" 

"I  just  wanted  to  know.  I  met  him  as  I  came 
in.  My  business  is  very  simple :  I  want  to  rent 
a  box  in  your  safe-deposit  vault." 

"Is  that  all?"  Mr.  Chisholm  seemed  to  be 
surprised.  "One  of  the  clerks  will  attend  to 
it  for  you." 

32 


THE    SEALED    PACKET 

"Not  the  way  I  want  to  do  it,"  Jim  Warren 
explained.  "I  want  to  deposit  in  that  box  a 
sealed  packet,  with  the  stamp  of  the  bank  upon 
it;  and  I  want  attached  to  that  your  affidavit 
and  two  others  stating  that  the  packet  was  de 
posited  this  day.  I'll  keep  the  key  of  that  box, 
but  it  is  never  to  be  opened  except  in  the  pres 
ence  of  all  those  persons  whose  names  appear 
upon  the  sealed  packet  inside.  Of  course,  you'll 
have  to  give  the  necessary  orders  for  all  this, 
and—" 

Mr.  Chisholm  swung  about  in  his  swivel 
chair  and  faced  Jim  Warren. 

"There's  a  lot  of  red  tape  about  it,"  he  ob 
jected. 

"I  know  it,"  Jim  Warren  agreed  compla 
cently.  "It  was  because  of  this  I  took  the 
trouble  to  bring  a  letter  of  introduction  from 
Mr.  Chase.  It  will  be  a  bit  of  trouble,  too;  es 
pecially  as  I  expect  to  put  other  sealed  packets 
in  the  box  from  time  to  time  in  the  same  man 
ner." 

33 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

Mr.  Chisholm  glanced  over  the  letter  of  in 
troduction  for  the  second  time.  The  Sandring- 
ham  National  Bank  was  the  general  repository 
of  the  Atlas  Plow  Works,  thanks  to  Mr.  Chase, 
the  manager. 

"Well,  of  course,  there's  no  objection  to  this 
rigmarole,"  Mr.  Chisholm  said  curtly  at  last — 
"no  objection ;  only  a  great  deal  of  trouble." 

"I'm  sorry,"  said  Jim  Warren  cheerfully. 
"Now,  if  you'll  fix  up  some  sort  of  paper  stat 
ing  in  what  manner  and  under  what  circum 
stances  the  box  is  to  be  opened — I  understand, 
of  course,  that  will  become  a  part  of  the  bank 
records  ?" 

"Naturally,"  said  Mr.  Chisholm.  The  nec 
essary  paper  was  drawn  up  in  duplicate.  "Now 
the  packet,  please." 

Jim  Warren  produced  it,  a  long,  legal-look 
ing  envelope  that  seemed  to  contain  only  a 
single  sheet  of  paper.  Mr.  Chisholm  weighed 
it  in  his  hand  with  growing  curiosity. 

"For  Heaven's  sake,  what's  in  it?"  he  asked, 
34 


THE    SEALED    PACKET 

half  smiling.  It  was  not  that  he  meant  to  be 
inquisitive;  it  was  merely  that  the  extraordi 
nary  precautions  Jim  Warren  was  taking  to 
protect  this  lonesome  sheet  of  paper  seemed  out 
of  all  proportion. 

"I  told  you  I  was  going  to  clean  house  at  the 
capitol,  didn't  I  ?"  Jim  Warren  laughed.  "Well, 
that's  the  broom." 

Patiently  enough  Mr.  Chisholm  fulfilled  Jim 
Warren's  wishes  in  the  matter  and,  with  a 
word  of  thanks,  Jim  Warren  went  his  way. 
His  under  jaw  was  thrust  forward,  his  sky- 
blue  eyes  for  the  instant  had  lost  their  lurking 
twinkle. 

"Governor  of  this  state!"  he  mused.  On 
the  crest  of  a  hill  a  short  distance  away  rose 
the  dome  of  the  capitol.  "Governor  of  this 
state !  No  man  can  stop  me !" 

For  no  particular  reason  there  flashed  across 
his  inner  vision  the  image  of  a  girl — a  distract- 
ingly  pretty  girl.  She  was  smiling. 

"Where  did  I  see  her  before?"  he  wondered. 
35 


CHAPTER  V 

JIM  WARREN  DEALS  A  HAND 

FRANCIS  EVERARD  LEWIS  was  a 
nearsilk-stocking  in  politics — suave,  soft- 
spoken,  bold,  cynical  and  conscienceless,  selfish 
of  his  own  power,  merciless  in  his  vengeance ; 
altogether  a  young  man — he  was  thirty-six  as 
against  Jim  Warren's  thirty-two — altogether  a 
young  man  to  be  reckoned  with  and  consulted 
and  pacified.  Assiduous  attention  to  the  inter 
ests  of  people  who  had  interests  to  protect  had 
lifted  him  to  his  commanding  position  politi 
cally,  had  furthered  his  ambitions  socially  and 
had  exalted  him  financially.  As  he  climbed, 
the  mere  friction  of  contact  had  given  him  a 
superficial  polish;  but  beneath  that  flimsy 
veneer  was  cunning  and  avariciousness  and  an 
unholy  lust  for  power.  From  the  viewpoint  of 
36 


JIM   WARREN   DEALS    A   HAND 

the  octopus  he  was  an  ideal  man ;  and,  this  be 
ing  true,  the  octopus  was  pleased  to  be  permit 
ted  to  eat  out  of  his  hand.  He  had  had  opposi 
tion  at  times.  Some  of  it  he  had  talked  to  death, 
some  of  it  he  had  smashed,  and  some  of  it  he 
had  bought  outright,  for  the  treasure  vaults  of 
the  octopus  poured  forth  a  flood  of  gold  at  his 
"Open  sesame!" 

When  Jim  Warren  appeared  on  the  horizon 
Lewis  was  in  the  ascendency  and  coming  to  his 
zenith.  At  the  previous  session  he  had  routed 
opposition  and  personally  named  the  speaker  of 
the  legislature,  one  Dwight  Tillinghast.  Til- 
linghast  was  one  of  those  innocuously  rich  men 
who  had  never  been  dishonest  for  the  sole 
reason,  perhaps,  that  it  had  never  been  neces 
sary  for  him  to  be  dishonest;  and  he  was 
blessed  with  a  conscience  that  worked  on  a  slid 
ing  scale.  He  was  an  ideal  mask  for  the 
machinations  of  Lewis ;  and,  seeing  this,  Lewis 
had  made  him  speaker.  Immediately  after  that 
he  had  dangled  the  governorship  before  Til- 

37 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

linghast's  eyes,  whereupon  Tillinghast  became 
clay  in  his  hands.  In  the  course  of  events,  all 
things  going  well,  Lewis  would  make  him  gov 
ernor,  and  then —  The  boss  licked  his  chops  in 
contemplation. 

This  being  the  condition,  it  was  not  odd, 
therefore,  that  men  smiled  at  Jim  Warren's 
modest  announcement  of  his  intention  of  mak 
ing  Lewis  climb  a  tree  and  pull  the  tree  up  after 
him,  while  the  flippant  assertion  made  so  little 
impression  upon  Lewis  himself  that  he  actually 
forgot  to  inquire  of  Franques,  who  knew 
everybody,  just  who  Jim  Warren  was.  In 
stead,  he  went  away  motoring. 

Now  the  octopus  is  legitimate  prey.  Grasp 
ing  it  firmly  by  the  tail,  Jim  Warren  proceeded 
to  tear  great  handfuls  of  feathers  out  of  it, 
after  which  he  held  it  aloft  and  summoned 
the  world  to  witness  its  naked  shame.  It  was 
some  time  before  the  octopus  noticed  that  any 
thing  unusual  was  going  on — or  coming  off. 
The  fact  that  it  had  noticed  became  evident  one 
38 


JIM    WARREN    DEALS    A   HAND 

day  when  Franques  received  and  opened  a 
terse  note  addressed  to  Lewis.  It  contained  a 
few  tart  inquiries:  Who  the  deuce  was  Jim 
Warren?  Was  he,  Lewis,  going  to  beat  him? 
If  so,  how?  Would  he  need  any  help? 

Franques  forwarded  the  terse  note  to  Lewis. 

"Jim  Warren  is  a  fool,  as  any  other  man  is 
a  fool  who  tries  to  beat  me  in  my  own  district," 
Lewis  wrote  easily  in  answer — "a  two-dollar-a- 
day  fool,  without  party  affiliation  or  following. 
I'll  beat  him,  of  course.  However,  it  might  be 
well  to  make  an  example  of  the  fellow;  so,  any 
help  you  may  see  fit  to  extend  in  these  circum 
stances — et  cetera,  et  cetera." 

Soothed  by  this  assurance  of  the  man  who, 
above  all  others,  ought  to  know,  the  octopus 
didn't  squirm  again  for  ten  days  or  so ;  and  it 
didn't  press  the  offer  of  help  for  the  simple  rea 
son  that  it  would  have  cost  money,  and  the  oc 
topus  is  a  frugal  fish.  The  occasion  of  its 
next  squirm  was  when  Jim  Warren  related  a 
little  of  the  inside  history  of  a  railroad  deal  by 

39 


THE   HIGH   HAND 

which  Warburton  had  been  euchered  out  of 
divers  and  sundry  municipal  advantages,  thanks 
to  Lewis'  knavery.  He  called  spades  spades 
and  bribery  bribery.  Another  terse  note  from 
the  octopus;  Franques  telegraphed  it  to  Lewis 
in  code. 

"Guesswork,"  Lewis  replied  to  the  octopus. 

"Please  take  immediate  steps  to  prevent  Jim 
Warren  from  guessing  so  accurately,"  ordered 
the  octopus. 

"Where  does  Jim  Warren  get  his  informa 
tion?"  Lewis  queried  of  Franques. 

"You  can  search  me!"  Franques  replied. 

"Don't  let  it  happen  again,"  Lewis  wired  to 
Franques ;  and  he  kept  on  motoring. 

When  Jim  Warren  emerged  from  the  dust 
he  had  kicked  up  he  found  that  he  had  become 
the  picturesque  figure  of  the  campaign.  His 
fight  was  news;  and  there  it  was  in  the  paper 
— right  next  to  live  reading  matter.  One  or 
two  newspapers,  not  overfriendly  to  Lewis, 
interviewed  him.  Where  did  he  get  his  infor- 
40 


JIM    WARREN    DEALS   A    HAND 

mation?  Jim  Warren  grinned.  Who  did  he 
represent?  Every  honest  man.  But  what 
party?  None.  Would  he  fight  in  either  cau 
cus?  No.  Oh,  he'd  be  an  independent  candi 
date  at  the  primaries  ?  No.  Did  he  mean  he'd 
run  with  no  indorsement?  That's  what  he 
meant.  Well,  how  did  he  happen  to  be  in  the 
running,  anyhow?  He'd  simply  declared  him 
self  in.  What  was  his  platform?  The  honesty 
of  Jim  Warren  as  opposed  to  the  crookedness 
of  Francis  Everard  Lewis.  Sort  of  holier-than- 
thou  candidate?  Uh-huh.  He  never  had  held 
office  ?  Not  yet.  Did  he  actually  expect  to  be 
elected?  He  actually  did. 

That's  all  there  was  to  that.  On  the  tail  of 
a  tip-cart,  with  his  coat  off  and  his  hat  slanted 
over  his  left  ear,  Jim  Warren  knew  no  master. 
A  night  or  so  later  he  proved  that  to  the  emi 
nent  satisfaction  of  a  small  crowd  of  working- 
men — he  proved  it  by  the  reading  of  two  notes. 
The  first  was  addressed  to  Francis  Everard 
Lewis.  It  inquired  tartly:  Who  the  deuce  is 
41 


Jim  Warren?  Are  you  going  to  beat  him?  If 
so,  how  ?  Will  you  need  any  help  ?  Then  Jim 
Warren  read  the  answer  to  that,  signed  by 
Francis  Everard  Lewis.  It  was  like  this : 

"Jim  Warren  is  a  fool,  as  any  other  man  is 
a  fool  who  tries  to  beat  me  in  my  own  district 
— a  two-dollar-a-day  fool,  without  party  affili 
ation  or  following.  I'll  beat  him,  of  course. 
However,  it  might  be  well  to  make  an  example 
of  the  fellow;  so,  any  help  you  may  see  fit  to 
extend  in  these  circumstances — et  cetera,  et 
cetera." 

Next  morning  three  newspapers  published 
facsimiles  of  the  original  letters;  incidentally 
two  of  them  declared  war  on  Lewis.  Whoever 
and  whatever  Jim  Warren  was,  one  pointed 
out,  he  was  at  least  to  be  preferred  to  this  man 
Lewis,  whose  long-suspected  connection  with 
corporations  was  now  indisputably  shown.  Or, 
if  the  voters  felt  that  Jim  Warren  was  not  the 
man  for  the  place,  some  other  man  of  known 
integrity  and  wider  experience  might  be  chosen 
42 


JIM   WARREN    DEALS    A   HAND 

at  the  primaries.    It  ventured  to  inquire  if  Jim 
Warren  would  retire  in  favor  of  such  a  man. 

"Not  in  a  thousand  years!"  declared  Jim 
Warren.    "I'm  just  beginning  to  enjoy  this." 


43 


CHAPTER  VI 

JIM  WARREN  SHUFFLES 

WHILE  the  telegraph  wires  were  singing 
with  messages  in  code  from  the  octopus 
to  Lewis,  and  from  Lewis  to  the  octopus,  there 
came   two   words   from   Franques   to  Lewis. 
They  were : 
"Come  home!" 

Lewis  scented  real  danger;  he  came.  The 
newspaper  men  met  him  at  the  railroad  station 
with  the  amiable  intention  of  pinning  him 
against  a  wall  and  extracting  from  him  an  an 
swer  to  that  one  vital  question:  "What  about 
those  letters?"  Lewis  smiled  pleasantly  and 
told  them  that  his  motoring  trip  had  been  a 
great  success.  "But  the  letters?"  His  car  ran 
well — very  well,  indeed.  "The  letters?"  He 
was  pleased  to  say  that  he  had  found  the  roads 
44 


JIM    WARREN    SHUFFLES 

in  magnificent  condition.  "Letters?"  The 
weather  was  ideal.  Again  he  smiled  pleasantly 
and  climbed  into  a  cab. 

There  was  a  perplexed  wrinkle  on  Lewis' 
brow  as  he  entered  his  apartments  at  the  Hotel 
Stanton.  Franques  was  waiting  for  him  there. 
For  the  first  time  in  his  life  Lewis  was  vaguely 
suspicious  of  this  swarthy  henchman  of  his. 
For  ten  years  Franques  had  served  him  and  he 
had  come  to  rely  upon  him  implicitly;  for  ten 
years  Franques  had  been  practically  in  charge 
of  his  affairs — even  his  private  papers.  He 
alone  knew  the  combination  of  the  safe  where 
those  papers  were  kept;  he — 

"Good  evening,  Mr.  Lewis,"  Franques 
greeted. 

"Where  did  Jim  Warren  get  those  letters  ?" 
Lewis  queried.  His  eyes  were  steely,  but  there 
was  no  trace  of  anger  in  his  voice;  instead,  he 
was  fairly  purring.  Franques  recognized  it  as 
his  most  dangerous  mood.  "Where  did  Jim 
Warren  get  those  letters  ?" 

45 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

"If  you'll  step  into  this  room?"  Franques 
requested. 

Lewis  followed  him  in  silence.  With  a  wave 
of  his  hand  Franques  indicated  the  safe — a 
small,  old-fashioned,  unsubstantial  affair.  One 
stupefied  glance  and  Lewis  dropped  down  on 
his  knees  in  front  of  it.  The  safe  had  been 
robbed !  The  lock  had  been  cut  away  from  the 
door,  clean;  the  work  had  been  done  with  a 
drill.  There  on  his  knees  Lewis  stared  dumbly. 
Here  was  a  possibility  he  had  never  foreseen. 
Some  subtle  change  came  over  Franques'  face ; 
his  wicked  eyes  lighted. 

Finally  Lewis  rose  and  fell  limply  into  a 
chair.  Every  record  of  all  his  multifarious 
political  iniquities  had  been  kept  in  that  safe. 
If  they  had  all  fallen  into  the  hands  of  another 
man — Jim  Warren —  His  face  went  ashen  at 
the  thought,  his  jaws  snapped,  his  fingers 
worked  nervously;  he  suffered  an  odd  sensa 
tion  of  choking. 

46 


JIM    WARREN    SHUFFLES 

"Is  anything  else  missing?"  he  demanded 
suddenly.  The  question  came  with  an  effort. 

"Nothing  is  missing,"  Franques  assured  him 
unemotionally — "not  even  the  letters/'  He 
produced  them.  "Evidently  they  were  photo 
graphed  and  put  back." 

Lewis  began  to  breathe  again.  For  the  sec 
ond  time  he  dropped  on  his  knees  and  fever 
ishly  ransacked  the  safe. 

"I  think  you'll  find  everything  there,"  his 
henchman  ventured.  "I've  looked  through 
carefully." 

But  that  was  something  Lewis  could  take  no 
man's  word  for,  not  even  Franques'.  He  re 
moved  everything  to  his  desk,  and  for  nearly 
an  hour  he  sat  there  going  through  a  litter  of 
documents — for  nearly  an  hour,  and  no  word 
was  spoken.  At  last  he  turned  upon  Franques. 

"Why,"  he  asked  slowly— "Why  should  the 
man  who  robbed  the  safe  photograph  only  those 
two  letters  when  there  are  so  many  other  things 
47 


THE   HIGH   HAND 

here  that  would  have  been  of  even  greater 
value  to  him — to  Jim  Warren?" 

"There  is  nothing  to  indicate  that  everything 
in  the  safe  wasn't  photographed,"  Franques 
pointed  out  quietly. 

Realization  of  this  possibility  brought  Lewis 
to  his  feet.  He  stood  glaring  at  Franques, 
breathing  heavily,  his  face  gone  haggard. 

"He  would  have  had  plenty  of  time,"  Fran 
ques  went  on  to  explain  monotonously. 
"You've  been  away  for  two  weeks,  your  apart 
ments  have  been  locked,  and  even  the  servants 
in  thei  hotel  didn't  enter  your  rooms  in  that 
time.  I  came  here  once  a  few  days  ago  and 
put  the  two  letters  that  have  been  published  in 
the  safe.  One  I  got  back  from  you ;  the  other 
was  returned  by  the  interests  according  to  your 
agreement.  When  they  were  printed  I  came 
again  and  found  everything  practically  as  you 
see  it  now.  It's  clear,  then,  that  if  the  safe- 
breaker  had  been  able  to  gain  admission  in  the 
interval  between  my  visits  he  could  have 
48 


JIM   WARREN    SHUFFLES 

worked  at  his  leisure.  You'll  notice  he  didn't 
blow  open  the  safe.  That  would  have  attracted 
attention." 

Lewis  listened,  speechless. 

"If  he  did  photograph  everything  in  that 
safe,"  he  broke  out  violently,  "it  means — "  He 
stopped. 

"It  means  you'll  have  hard  sledding  to  get 
back  to  the  legislature."  Franques  finished  the 
sentence  for  him.  "I  am  assuming,  of  course, 
that  the  other  photographs  will  be  given  to  the 
newspapers." 

"It  means  more  than  that,  Franques,"  Lewis 
declared  slowly.  "It  means  that,  with  all  the 
power  I've  got  in  this  state,  we'll  go  to  jail 
unless  we  can  recover  those  photographs. 
There's  no  need  of  using  pretty  words!  Jail 
for  you  and  for  me,  do  you  understand  ?" 

Franques  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"Did  you  report  the  robbery  to  the  police?" 

"Report  this  robbery  ?"  Franques  seemed  as 
tonished.  "You  have  just  given  the  best  reason 
49 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

in  the  world  why  I  should  not  have  reported  it 
I  did  not,  of  course." 

"And  what  do  you  make  of  it  ?  Who  robbed 
the  safe  ?  Jim  Warren  ?" 

"Not  Jim  Warren,  certainly,"  was  the  em 
phatic  reply.  "Evidently  it  is  the  work  of  an 
expert — " 

"Hired  by  Jim  Warren,"  Lewis  interrupted. 
"And  the  newspapers — have  they  any  more  of 
the  photographs  ?" 

"I  hardly  think  so.  I  have  taken  pains  to 
make  discreet  inquiries  and — " 

"Then,"  Lewis  declared  sharply,  "we've  got 
to  stop  these  photographs  before  they  get  to  the 
newspapers." 

"How  ?"  Apparently  Franques  had  no  ideas 
of  his  own  on  the  subject. 

"Bluff  Jim  Warren  to  a  standstill!"  Lewis 
was  floundering  for  a  method;  he  offered  the 
first  possibility  that  came  to  hand :  "Threaten 
his  arrest  for  safe-robbery?  Or  forgery?"  He 
stopped  and  stared  at  Franques  keenly.  "He 
50 


JIM    WARREN    SHUFFLES 

forged  those  letters  that  have  been  printed. 
Understand?" 

Franques  shook  his  head. 

"He'd  laugh  at  you,"  he  said. 

"Get  to  the  newspapers,  then!"  said  Lewis 
desperately. 

"You  might  stop  a  cyclone  or  a  streak  of 
lightning  or  an  earthquake,  but  you  couldn't 
stop  a  newspaper,"  Franques  remarked  suc 
cinctly.  "Besides,  all  the  newspapers  here  are 
after  your  hide  now." 

Lewis'  eyes  narrowed  to  mere  pin-points. 
Fire  must  be  fought  with  fire. 

"There's  always  one  way,"  he  said  mean 
ingly.  "A  clever,  bold  man  could  unlock  a 
door  or  break  open  a  window;  or,  if  necessary, 
blow  a  safe — " 

Franques  regarded  him  steadily  for  a  long 
time.  Finally  Lewis  looked  away. 

"I  understand ;  but  it's  dangerous." 

"Dangerous !"  Lewis  flamed  suddenly.  "Do 
you  think  that  either  you  or  I  could  live  on  the 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

edge  of  this  volcano?  I  know  it's  dangerous; 
I'll  pay  for  the  danger  and  I  won't  ask  any 
questions."  His  hands  shook  a  little;  he  shud 
dered.  "Get  'em — you  know  what  I  mean; 
and  do  it  at  once — to-night  if  possible." 

"I  think  I  know  a  man — "  Franques  began. 

"Don't  tell  me  anything  about  it;  I  don't 
want  to  know,"  Lewis  interrupted.  "Get  those 
photographs — I  don't  care  how !" 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE   TIMID   BURGLAR 

THREE  or  four  times  Jim  Warren  paused 
in  his  writing  to  glance  impatiently  at  his 
watch.  Midnight  had  come  and  gone  and  the 
roar  of  the  restless  city  had  sunk  to  a  droning ; 
one  o'clock  and  the  droning  merged  into  the 
sheer  silence  of  night,  unbroken  save  for  the 
sporadic  clanging  of  a  street-car  in  some  near 
by  thoroughfare.  At  twenty  minutes  past  one 
Jim  Warren,  listening  keenly,  caught  the  sound 
of  stealthy  footsteps  in  the  hall.  He  grinned 
expectantly  and,  leaning  forward,  pressed  the 
button  which  shut  off  the  electric  lights.  Then 
he  sat  still  in  the  darkness,  waiting. 

The  footsteps  moved  along  the  hall  with  a 
peculiar  hissing  noiselessness   on  the   carpet; 
now  they  were  just  outside  his  door.     Then, 
53 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

for  a  minute,  perhaps,  all  sounds  ceased.  At 
last  there  came  a  slight  click  as  a  cautious  hand 
tried  the  knob.  By  an  almost  imperceptible 
movement  of  the  air  and  a  gentle  bulging  of 
the  window  curtains,  Jim  Warren  knew  that 
the  door  had  been  opened.  Ten  seconds  and 
the  curtains  hung  limp  again.  His  visitor,  who 
ever  and  whatever  he  might  be,  had  entered 
and  closed  the  door  behind  him  without  so 
much  as  one  squeak.  Jim  Warren  sat  staring 
through  the  darkness  in  the  direction  of  the 
door. 

Suddenly  the  slide  of  a  dark  lantern  was 
pushed  aside  and  there  came  a  circular  swoop 
of  light,  directed  first  at  his  bed,  which  had  not 
been  disturbed.  It  lingered  there  for  an  instant, 
then  it  was  turned  full  in  his  face.  He  blinked 
in  the  glare  of  it,  but  he  didn't  move. 

"You  did  that  very  well,"  he  remarked 
quietly.  "That  door  always  squeaks  when  I 
open  it." 

There  was  a  pause ;  and  finally  from  out  of 
54 


THE   TIMID    BURGLAR 

• 

the  pall  of  darkness  behind  the  light,  in  a  pleas 
ant  sort  of  voice : 

"This  is  Mr.  Warren,  I  presume?" 

"Yes." 

Jim  Warren  leaned  forward  and  pushed  the 
electric  button;  the  lights  leaped  into  life  again. 
It  was  a  sinister  figure  he  saw — a  man  with  the 
upper  part  of  his  face  obscured  by  a  mask  and 
the  lower  part  wrapped  about  with  a  heavy 
muffler.  The  black  slouch  hat  of  melodrama 
was  pulled  down  over  his  eyes  and  in  his  right 
hand  he  carried  a  revolver.  The  two  men  re 
garded  each  other  in  silence.  Then : 

"I  am  the  burglar,  sir,"  said  the  intruder. 

"So  I  see,"  said  Jim  Warren.  "Glad  to  see 
you.  Won't  you — er — won't  you  sit  down  and 
have  off  your  mask?" 

"Thank  you,  sir."  The  burglar  came  for 
ward  and  dropped  wearily  into  a  chair.  "I  had 
expected  to  find  you  in  bed,  sir."  It  was  a 
complaint. 

"I'm  sorry,"  Jim  Warren  apologized.  "I 
55 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

hope  I  haven't  put  you  to  any  inconvenience; 
but  I  had  some  letters  to  write,  and — " 

"I  don't  suppose  it  really  matters."  The 
burglar  spoke  in  a  tone  of  deep  resignation. 
"Nothing  ever  happens  as  we'd  have  it,  sir." 

The  burglar  laid  his  hat  and  revolver  on  the 
table  and  untied  the  cord  which  held  his  mask 
in  place.  He  was  rather  prepossessing  in  ap 
pearance,  with  the  soft  eyes  of  a  woman  and  a 
weak,  indolent  mouth.  He  drew  a  handker 
chief  from  his  pocket  and  mopped  his  forehead. 

"It's  rather  warm  to-night,  sir,"  he  observed. 

"It  is;  yes,"  Jim  Warren  agreed.  "Can  I 
offer  you  a — a  glass  of  water?" 

"If  it  wouldn't  trouble  you  too  much,  sir." 

Jim  Warren  rose  and  poured  it,  then  stood 
by  looking  down  upon  the  burglar  as  he  drank. 

"And  a  cigar?" 

"Thank  you,  sir.  I  never  smoke.  I  have  no 
bad  habits." 

Jim  Warren  took  the  glass  and  set  it  down 
beside  the  water  pitcher. 
56 


THE   TIMID    BURGLAR 

"Are  you  a  professional?"  he  asked  cour 
teously.  "Or  is  this  merely  an  extraordinary 
enterprise  ?" 

"It's  my  regular  business,  sir.  I  used  to  sing 
tenor  for  a  living,  but  my  voice  failed  and  I 
had  no  business  training,  so  I  adopted  this 
profession.  I'm  not  very  strong  and  manual 
labor  was  out  of  the  question ;  so — "  He  waved 
his  hands.  "One  must  do  something,  sir." 

"Yes,  one  must  do  something,"  Jim  Warren 
assented.  "Why  not  this?  After  all,  it  re 
quires  only  a  little  nerve." 

"Not  even  that,  sir,  if  one  is  careful,"  the 
burglar  explained.  "As  a  matter  of  fact,  I  am 
quite  a  coward.  I  quit  this  business  entirely 
at  one  time  because  of  a — of  a —  Well,  a 
policeman  shot  at  me  and  it  quite  upset  me.  I 
remained  out  of  employment  for  six  months, 
and  only  went  back  to  this  because  my  wife  and 
children  were  in  want.  I  couldn't  bear  to  see 
them  suffer,  sir.  Since  then  I've  done  rather 
well.  I  manage  to  keep  my  eldest  boy  in  board- 
57 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

ing  school,  and  I've  bought  and  almost  paid 
for  a  little  home  in  the  suburbs,  with  a  charm 
ing  garden  attached." 

Jim  Warren  had  been  half  smiling  as  he 
listened.  He  picked  up  the  revolver  and  was 
examining  it. 

"A  little  job  of  safe-drilling  in  a  hotel  comes 
in  the  course  of  your  duties  at  times,  I  dare 
say  ?"  he  asked  carelessly. 

"You  know  of  that,  then,  sir?"  inquired  the 
burglar.  "It  took  me  two  days  to  do  that  job. 
It's  out  of  my  line,  but  I  did  it  rather  well." 

Jim  Warren  nodded  as  if  some  question  in 
his  own  mind  had  been  answered. 

"Perhaps  a  little  photography,  too?" 

"Yes,  sir.  I  made  all  those  photographs, 
under  the  direction  of  Mr. — " 

"Never  mind,"  Jim  Warren  interrupted. 
Then  he  came  down  to  the  matter  in  hand. 
"Now  that  you  are  here,  what  is  the  next 
step?" 

"You  must  capture  me,  sir.    There'll  have  to 
58 


THE   TIMID    BURGLAR 

be  a  desperate  struggle,  of  course;  then  you 
must  bind  me  hard  and  fast."  He  unbuttoned 
his  coat  and  began  to  reel  off  yards  of  rope.  "I 
was  afraid  you  wouldn't  have  any  rope  handy, 
sir;  so  I  brought  this  along  with  me." 

Jim  Warren  laughed,  deep-throated.  The 
burglar  turned  his  mild  eyes  upon  him  inquir 
ingly. 

"If  you'll  permit  me,"  he  suggested,  "I  think 
I  can  give  the  room  the  appearance  of  having 
been  upset  by  a  struggle  without  putting  you 
to  the  inconvenience  of  going  through  it,  sin 
Let's  see !  You  were  sitting  at  the  table  writ 
ing  when  I  came  in.  I  crept  up  and  leaped 
upon  you  from  behind.  You  might  upset  the 
ink  on  the  table.  That  would  be  rather  an 
artistic  touch.  And  your  chair,  of  course, 
would  be  turned  over.  Then  you'll  have  to 
muss  up  your  hair,  sir.  I'll  tear  my  mask 
across,  like  this!  There!  Now  I  think  that 
will  be  all,  sir,  if  you  will  bind  me." 

Right  sturdily  did  Jim  Warren  bind  him, 

59 


with  his  feet  drawn  together  and  wrapped  in 
coils  of  the  rope  and  his  hands  behind  him, 
knotted  securely.  Then  he  picked  him  up  in 
his  sinewy  arms  and  laid  him  on  the  bed. 

"Is  that  all  right?"  he  asked. 

"Yes,  sir,  I  think  that  will  do  very  nicely. 
If  you'll  just  fling  my  hat  down  on  the  floor 
and  trample  on  it  and  then  muss  up  my  hair? 
Thanks.  I  think  everything  is  quite  convinc 
ing  now." 

"But  the  revolver?"  Jim  Warren  held  it  in 
his  hand. 

"You'd  better  take  it  along,  sir,"  the  burglar 
advised.  "It's  quite  safe.  It  has  only  wax  bul 
lets  in  it"  He  blushed.  "It  quite  unnerves  me 
to  think  of  loading  it  with  real  bullets." 

"But  suppose,"  Jim  Warren  queried — "sup 
pose  there  should  come  a  time  when  you  needed 
a  real  bullet  ?" 

"I  should  let  myself  be  taken,  sir,  if  that's 
what  you  mean.  I  couldn't — I  wouldn't  hurt 
any  one;  and  if  I  am  hurt" — he  shrugged  his 
60 


THE   TIMID    BURGLAR 

shoulders — "or  killed,  I  carry  very  heavy  life 
and  accident  insurance,  sir." 

Jim  Warren  didn't  comment  upon  the  fact 
that  insurance  would  be  invalid  if  the  burglar 
should  be  killed  or  wounded  in  the  practice  of 
his  profession ;  he  couldn't  bring  himself  to  cast 
a  shadow  of  anxiety  over  this  gentle  soul.  He 
stared  at  him  a  minute  and  went  out. 

Ten  minutes  later  Francis  Everard  Lewis 
was  aroused  from  an  uneasy  sleep  by  the  ring 
ing  of  his  telephone  bell.  The  sharp  clatter  of 
it  sent  a  nervous  thrill  through  him.  Franques, 
of  course !  Had  he  succeeded  ? 

"Hello!"  he  called. 

"Hello,"  came  the  reply  in  a  voice  he  had 
never  heard  before.  "This  Mr.  Lewis?" 

"Yes." 

"This  is  Jim  Warren,"  came  over  the  wire. 
"I  have  one  of  your  voters  locked  up  in  my 
room.  I  thought  perhaps  you'd  like  to  come 
down  and  talk  it  over  with  me." 

"One  of  my — what  ?"  Lewis  demanded. 
61 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

"One  of  your  voters,"  said  Jim  Warren. 
"He's  a  burglar.  He  tells  me  he  came  to  steal 
some  photographs  which  happen  to  be  in  my 
possession.  I  captured  him.  Will  you  come 
down  and  see  him  ?" 

"Come  down  and  see  him?  A  burglar!  I 
don't  know  what  you  are  talking  about.  Of 
course  I  won't  come." 

"Very  well,  then.  I'll  turn  him  over  to  the 
police.  Good  night." 

"Wait  a  minute!"  The  request  came  as  if 
torn  from  Lewis'  throat.  "I — I  don't  know 
anything  about  any — any  burglar.  I  think — 
perhaps — I  do  know  about  the — the  photo 
graphs.  I — er — I — " 

"Yes,  I  think  perhaps  you  do,"  said  Jim 
Warren.  He  was  grinning  into  the  transmit 
ter.  "Those  photographs  have  a  price,  you 
know  ?" 

"A  price!"  Lewis'  teeth  snapped.  Why 
hadn't  he  thought  of  that  before !  "And  what 
is  that  price  ?" 

62 


THE   TIMID    BURGLAR 

"Your  withdrawal  and  the  indorsement  of 
Jim  Warren,  labor  candidate,  by  your  ma 
chine." 

The  sheer  audacity  of  the  suggestion  left 
Lewis  dumb  for  an  instant.  When  words 
came  at  last  it  was  a  spluttering  that  was  in 
coherent  over  the  wire. 

"What  is  it,  please?"  Jim  Warren  mocked. 

"No !"  thundered  Lewis. 

"Very  well,"  said  Jim  Warren.  "I'll  turn 
the  burglar  over  to  the  police.  Good  night." 

There  was  a  clatter  as  he  hung  the  receiver 
on  the  hook.  .  .  .  Five  minutes  later  Jim 
Warren  reentered  his  room. 

"Didn't  hook  him  that  time,"  he  explained 
in  answer  to  the  look  of  inquiry  on  the  bur 
glar's  face.  "However,  I'll  bet  eight  dollars 
he  spends  the  most  uncomfortable  night  of  his 
life."  He  leaned  over  and  unfastened  the 
knots  which  bound  the  burglar.  "Better  run 
along  to  your  wife  and  kiddies,"  he  advised. 
"They'll  be  worrying  about  you." 

63 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

The  burglar  rose  and  stretched  himself. 
"I'm  sorry,  sir,  that  all  our  trouble  came  to 
nothing,"  he  apologized.    "Good  night,  sir." 
And  he  went  stealthily  as  he  came. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

MARKING   THE    CARDS 

IN  the  aerie  height  of  an  office  which  over 
looked  the  whole  city  of  New  York,  Mr. 
Pointer  sat,  a  shriveled  wisp  of  a  man,  and 
— like  Teufelsdrockh — peered  down  "into  all 
that  wasp-nest  or  beehive,  and  witnessed  their 
wax-laying  and  honey-making  and  poison- 
brewing,  and  choking  by  sulphur.  .  .  .  The 
joyful  and  the  sorrowful  are  there;  men  are 
dying  there ;  men  are  being  born ;  men  are  pray 
ing.  .  .  .  Councilors  of  state  sit  plotting  and 
playing  their  high  chess  game,  whereof  the 
pawns  are  men."  Mr.  Pointer  rasped  his 
skinny  hands  together  and  cackled  dryly. 
" — whereof  the  pawns  are  men!"  The  phrase 
pleased  him ;  he  played  the  game  himself  rather 
adroitly. 

65 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

Mr.  Pointer  was  one  of  the  many  tentacles  of 
the  octopus ;  a  clearing  house  of  political  infor 
mation  and  adviser-in-chief  of  a  host  of  men 
who  guarded  the  political  interests  of  certain 
gigantic  corporations.  He  was  the  one  man 
who  knew  precisely  why  Governor  Blank  was 
not  made  United  States  Senator  from  the  state 
of  So-and-So;  and  why  Dash  wasn't  returned 
to  the  city  council  from  a  certain  district  in  the 
city  of  This-and-That ;  and  why  the  mayor  of 
You-Know  vetoed  bill  No.  18,  which  was  an 
act  to  repeal  an  act,  et  cetera.  He  knew  these 
things  because  it  was  his  business  to  know  them 
— and  the  octopus  paid  him  well. 

It  was  to  him  that  Francis  Everard  Lewis 
came,  panic-stricken.  Under  the  glittering  eyes 
of  this  shriveled  little  man  he  told  his  story,  all 
of  it,  from  Jim  Warren's  announcement  of  his 
candidacy  up  to  and  including  the  incident  of 
the  captured  burglar,  who  had  been  sent  by 
Franques  to  recover  the  photographs.  He  re 
membered  with  abject  horror  the  weary  hours 
66 


MARKING   THE   CARDS 

following  that  conversation  over  the  telephone. 
Jim  Warren  had  said  he  would  turn  the  burglar 
over  to  the  police;  if  he  had —  But  he  hadn't; 
he  had  released  him.  What  motive  lay  back  of 
that  he  didn't  know,  unless,  perhaps,  it  was 
Jim  Warren's  desire  to  keep  himself  out  of  a 
possible  controversy  as  to  the  breaking  open 
of  a  certain  safe. 

"Why  were  you  keeping  all  your  letters  and 
ours?"  Mr.  Pointer  queried  curtly.  "What 
was  the  use  of  it  ?" 

"I  thought  perhaps  they  might  be  of  value 
at  some  time,"  Lewis  replied  haltingly. 

"Of  value  in  case  we  ever  decided  to  throw 
you  down?"  queried  the  little  man.  "Is  that 
right?  It  was  a  club  over  our  heads?" 

"I  don't  know  why  I  kept  them,"  Lewis 
said  desperately.  "Certainly  I  didn't  want  them 
to  get  into  the  hands  of  any  one  else." 

"I  understand,"  said  Mr.  Pointer  testily. 
"The  same  scheme  has  been  tried  before.  It 
never  works."  He  paused  and  stroked  his 
67 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

withered  chin.  "Just  when  was  it  your — your 
man  tried  to  recover  the  letters?" 

"Night  before  last." 

"Nothing  has  appeared  since?" 

"Not  yet;  but  Jim  Warren's  got  them  all. 
He  practically  admitted  as  much  over  the 
'phone  to  me." 

"And  now,  what  do  you  purpose  doing?" 

"I  don't  know ;  that's  why  I  am  here.  What 
can  I  do?" 

"There  are  several  things  you  can  do,"  said 
Mr.  Pointer. 

He  turned  to  the  window  and  stood  staring 
down  upon  the  placid  bosom  of  the  Hudson 
for  a  minute  or  more.  A  giant  steamship 
swashed  and  wallowed  her  way  toward  the 
open  sea ;  mosquito-like  tugs  darted  hither  and 
thither;  cumbersome  ferryboats  toiled  along 
endlessly. 

"There  seem  to  be  some  very  good  reasons 
why  Jim  Warren  will  not  proceed  to  extremes 
in  the  use  of  those  letters — unless  he  has  to," 
68 


MARKING   THE   CARDS 

he  remarked  finally.  "You  say  he  has  de 
manded  your  withdrawal  and  the  indorsement 
of  your  machine  as  the  price  of  the  photo 
graphs?" 

"Yes." 

Again  Mr.  Pointer  was  silent  for  a  minute 
or  more. 

"Why  don't  you  withdraw?"  he  asked  casu 
ally. 

"Withdraw!"  Lewis  repeated  incredulously. 
"Give  up  all—" 

"Withdraw,"  Mr.  Pointer  echoed  crabbedly, 
"and  name  some  other  man  who  would  have  a 
chance  to  beat  Jim  Warren.  It  would  be  a 
voluntary  act  and  would  shut  off  the  letters. 
If  Jim  Warren  beats  your  man  it  is  no  reflec 
tion  upon  you;  if  your  man  wins  you  can 
throw  him  out  after  one  term.  By  that  time 
Jim  Warren  will  be  tame  enough,  I  dare  say." 

"I  won't  do  it !"  Lewis  declared  hotly.   Rea 
son  was  not  there;  it  was  only  anger  against 
Jim  Warren.  "I  won't  do  it,"  he  repeated. 
69 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

Mr.  Pointer  squinted  out  of  half-closed  eyes 
at  his  visitor  for  an  instant,  then  shrugged  his 
shoulders. 

"Well,  if  you're  going  to  stick,  go  at  him 
systematically,"  he  advised  in  a  different  tone. 
"Block  him  in  the  caucuses.  You  can  do 
that?" 

"Yes;  not  only  in  my  machine  but  in  Sim- 
monds',"  said  Lewis.  "But  he's  announced 
that  he  would  ask  no  favor  of  any  caucus." 

"He  might.  You  can  do  the  same  thing  in 
the  primaries  ?  Choke  him  off  ?" 

"Yes." 

"Can  you  keep  his  name  off  the  ballots?" 

"I  can.  Two  of  the  Commissioners  of  Elec 
tion  belong  to  me." 

"Then,  go  to  Simmonds  and  make  a  deal. 
Give  Simmonds  the  mayor  in  return  for  his 
machine's  support  of  you  for  the  legislature." 

"I'd  thought  of  that  and  felt  out  Simmonds 
on  it.  He's  willing." 

Then  for  a  long  time  there  was  silence  be- 
70 


MARKING   THE    CARDS 

tween  the  two  men.  Mr.  Pointer,  his  small, 
shriveled  face  drawn  into  a  thousand  wrinkles, 
merely  looked  at  this  man.  He  knew  the  type 
— the  sordid  soul  of  him,  the  selfishness,  the 
greed  and  the  cunning  boldness  which  would 
lead  him  to  any  length. 

"All  these  suggestions,  of  course,  are  based 
on  the  idea  that  you'll  have  to  fight  it  out,"  he 
said  finally.  "But  there  comes  to  me  another 
scheme  which  might  end  the  fight  in  your  favor 
immediately." 

"What  is  it?"  Lewis'  drawn  face  lighted 
eagerly. 

"It's  true,  isn't  it,  that,  to  win,  Jim  Warren 
must  have  the  support  of  your  machine?"  Mr. 
Pointer  asked  in  turn.  "And  he  knows  that, 
doesn't  he?" 

"Generally  speaking,  that's  true;  yes. 
Why?" 

"Every  man  has  his  price,  you  know."  The 
shriveled  little  man's  thin  lips  were  drawn  into 
a  sneer.  "Find  Jim  Warren's  price.  Offer 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

him  a  commissionership,  or  something  of  the 
sort,  if  he  will  quit  in  your  favor." 

Lewis  sat  up  straight  in  his  chair. 

"By  George,  I  hadn't  thought  of  that!"  he 
exclaimed. 

"You  don't  have  to  give  it  to  him,  you 
know,"  the  elder  man  pointed  out.  "You  can 
always  double-cross  him." 

Lewis  rose  excitedly  and  paced  the  length 
of  the  room  half  a  dozen  times,  his  face  aglow, 
his  fingers  working  exultantly. 

"I  think  he'd  fall  for  that,"  he  declared. 
"Of  course,  I  don't  have  to  give  it  to  him. 
Why—"  And  he  laughed.  "I  think  that's 
the  answer." 

There  was  nothing  of  this  relief  visible  upon 
the  wrinkled  face  of  the  little  man ;  instead,  he 
sat  perfectly  still,  watching  Lewis. 

"It  will  be  a  condition  of  that  agreement,  of 

course,"  he  said,  "that  the  photographs  and 

plates  are  to  be  returned  to  you;  and  when 

you  get  them  they  are  to  be  returned  to  me !" 

72 


MARKING   THE    CARDS 

He  laughed  oddly.  "Meanwhile  you  will  re 
turn  to  me  all  the  original  letters  I  have  ever 
written  to  you.  I'll  just  trim  your  claws." 

Lewis  shot  him  a  quick,  curious  glance.  He 
understood  perfectly. 

"One  other  thing,  Lewis,"  the  little  man 
went  on  implacably.  "If  this  Jim  Warren  per 
son  does  beat  you,  in  spite  of  all  this,  of  hovr 
much  use  will  you  be  to  us  afterward?" 

"As  much  use  as  ever  I  was,"  Lewis  replied 
positively.  "Of  more  use,  perhaps." 

"You'll  be  discredited  to  a  certain  extent,  of 
course,  and — " 

"But,"  Lewis  put  in  sharply,  "Dwight  Til- 
linghast  is  my  man.  I  put  him  in  there;  I 
made  him  and  I'm  going  to  make  him  gov 
ernor.  Neither  Jim  Warren  nor  any  other 
man  can  stop  me  from  doing  that." 

"You  are  sure  of  him  ?" 

"Sure  of  him?"  Lewis  repeated.  "Abso 
lutely.  I  am  going  to  marry  his  daughter 
Edna.  Every  man  has  his  price,  as  you  say. 
73 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

That's  my  price.     She's  worth  a  million  or  so 
in  her  own  right !" 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  following  day 
Franques  called  upon  Jim  Warren  and  they 
were  closeted  together  for  half  an  hour.  Curi 
ously  enough,  half  a  dozen  newspaper  men, 
brought  there  by  some  inspiration,  were  wait 
ing  outside  when  Jim  Warren  ushered  Fran 
ques  through  the  door. 

"Tell  Francis  Everard  Lewis,"  said  Jim 
Warren  distinctly,  heedless  of  listening  ears, 
"that  he  can't  buy  me.  I've  got  his  number — 
and  it's  twenty-three !" 


74 


CHAPTER   IX 

JIM    WARREN   TURNS   A   TRICK 

THERE  was  no  particular  mystery  to 
Lewis  in  Jim  Warren's  refusal  of  a  five- 
thousand- dollar- a- year  commissionership  — 
simply,  it  wasn't  enough.  He  hadn't  given 
Franques  sufficient  authority.  The  only  thing 
to  do,  he  finally  saw,  would  be  to  call  upon 
this  Jim  Warren  person  himself  and  adjust 
matters.  Buying  him  off,  of  course,  was  the 
feasible  thing.  He  would  go  and  do  it.  No ; 
on  second  thoughts  he  would  make  Jim  War 
ren  come  to  him.  To  this  end  he  despatched 
a  courteous  little  note  to  Jim  Warren  asking 
him  to  drop  by  the  Hotel  Stanton  at  his  early 
convenience  to  talk  things  over. 

"If  you  want  to  see  me  you  know  where  my 
office  is,"  Jim  Warren  answered  curtly.  "If 
you  come,  come  alone  after  six  o'clock." 

75 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

"If  you  come,  come  alone!"  Lewis  found 
a  grain  of  comfort  in  that  ambiguous  sentence. 
Of  course,  it  meant  that  Jim  Warren  was 
amenable  to  reason  if  reason  took  a  substantial 
form.  The  finality  of  the  note  he  construed 
as  merely  an  outcropping  of  the  egotism  which 
had  come  to  Jim  Warren  with  his  first  feeling 
of  power.  So  he  pocketed  his  pride  and  called 
— alone — after  six  o'clock.  Jim  Warren 
grinned  when  he  came  in,  and  shook  the  prof 
fered  hand  without  hesitation. 

Lewis  purred  a  few  preliminaries  while  he 
studied  the  freckled  face,  the  lean  jaw,  the 
whimsical  sky-blue  eyes.  He  felt  himself  to 
be  a  keen  judge  of  men,  did  Lewis;  and  in 
stantly  he  isolated  and  classified  to  his  own 
satisfaction  those  qualities  that  drew  men  to 
Jim  Warren  and  made  them  believe  in  him. 
Confidently  he  came  down  to  the  matter  in 
hand. 

"It's  unfortunate,  Mr.  Warren,"  he  began 
suavely,  "that  we  never  met  before  you — er — - 
76 


JIM   WARREN   TURNS    A   TRICK 

before  you  became  a  candidate  for  the  legis 
lature.  I'm  sure  if  we  had  met  it  would  never 
have  happened  that  we  would  have  been  op 
posed  politically." 

For  several  reasons  Jim  Warren  didn't  men 
tion  the  fact  that  he  had  called  upon  him  in  the 
beginning  and  didn't  find  him;  instead,  he 
fussed  around  his  desk  for  a  box  of  cigars. 
Casually,  quite  casually,  his  finger  touched  an 
electric  button  hidden  under  a  pile  of  news 
papers.  Lewis  accepted  and  lighted  a  cigar. 

"You  want  me  to  quit?"  Jim  Warren  in 
quired  pointedly.  - 

Lewis  waved  his  hands  deprecatingly. 

"Well,  it's  unfortunate  that  we  should  be 
opposed,"  he  temporized.  "Matters  might 
have  been  adjusted  in  another  way  if  I  had 
only  understood.  Now,  if  you  had  proceeded 
in  the  regular  way — " 

"Now,  Lewis,  let's  cut  out  the  blab,"  Jim 
Warren  interrupted  curtly.  "How  much  is  it 
worth  to  me  to  quit  ?" 

77 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

There  is  nothing  so  disconcerting  to  a  diplo 
matist  as  utter  frankness.  For  a  minute  Lewis 
stared  at  Jim  Warren,  then  the  whole  expres 
sion  of  his  face  changed ;  his  lips  curled  into  an 
exquisitely  courteous  smile  which  nevertheless 
was  a  sneer.  He  glanced  cautiously  about  the 
room. 

"Speak  your  piece,"  Jim  Warren  directed. 
'There  is  no  one  to  hear  but  me ;  not  a  soul  in 
the  building  but  us." 

"I  think  it's  possible  for  us  to  get  together, 
Mr.  Warren,"  Lewis  said  slowly  after  a  mo 
ment.  "You've  met  me  frankly;  we'll  get 
along." 

"How  much  is  it  worth  to  me  to  quit?" 
reiterated  Jim  Warren. 

"How  much  is  it  worth?"  Lewis  reflected. 
"Well,  you  declined  the  offer  of  a  commis- 
sionership  at  five  thousand  a  year,  made 
through  Franques;  so — " 

"Talk  business,"  said  Jim  Warren  impa 
tiently.  "That  was  merely  a  sop  and  you 
78 


JIM   WARREN    TURNS    A   TRICK 

would  probably  have  double-crossed  me.  How 
much  real  money  is  it  worth  to  me  to  quit  ?" 

Lewis  smiled  blandly.  The  difficulties  he 
had  anticipated  were  thinning  out,  vanishing. 

"On  a  cash  basis?"  he  queried. 

"On  a  cash  basis.     Make  your  proposition." 

"Ten  thousand  dollars?" — tentatively. 

"Not  enough.    Come  again." 

Lewis  was  still  smiling.  Jim  Warren's  with 
drawal  at  any  price  within  reason  would  be 
cheap,  both  to  himself  and  the  interests  he  rep 
resented.  This  year  was  to  bring  the  harvest 
of  many  schemes  that  had  been  under  way  for 
months.  With  Dwight  Tillinghast  as  speaker, 
and  with  himself  on  three  or  four  choice  com 
mittees,  there  was  no  end  to  possibilities. 

"Twenty  thousand?"  he  suggested  briskly; 
and  he  rubbed  his  well-manicured  hands  to 
gether  ingratiatingly.  "That  is  to  be  paid  on 
condition  that  you  get  out  and  stay  out;  and 
that  you  return  to  me  all  plates  and  all  photo 
graphs  of  the  various  papers  in  my  safe. 
79 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

Twenty  thousand  dollars  is  real  money,  as  you 
call  it" 

Jim  Warren's  sky-blue  eyes  were  fixed  in 
tently  upon  Lewis'  eyes.  After  a  while  he  drew 
a  long  breath  and  grinned  cheerfully. 

"Those  photographs  seem  to  stick  in  your 
craw,"  he  remarked  pleasantly.  "I  believe  we 
had  a  short  conversation  about  them  one  night 
over  the  telephone,  didn't  we?" 

Lewis  chose  to  ignore  the  question. 

"Does  twenty  thousand  go?"  he  asked. 

"Oh,  why  not  make  it  twenty-five  ?" 

"Twenty-five  it  is,  then,"  Lewis  exclaimed; 
and  he  banged  the  desk  with  quick  impatience. 
The  price  was  stiff,  but  it  meant  his  political 
life  and  he  was  in  no  position  to  haggle.  "That 
offer,  of  course,  carries  the  conditions  I  have 
named." 

"And  when — when  do  I  get  it  ?" 

"The  day  you  announce  in  the  newspapers 
over  your  signature  that  you  have  withdrawn 
— the  details  can  be  arranged  to  suit  you," 
80 


JIM    WARREN    TURNS   A   TRICK 

Lewis  explained ;  "and  you'll  return  the  plates 
and  photographs." 

"How  do  I  know  I'll  get  it?"  Jim  Warren 
stared  at  him.  "Even  then  ?"  he  added. 

"Ask  any  man  I've  ever  dealt  with.  He'll 
tell  you  I  never  break  my  word." 

"Who,  for  instance  ?"  Jim  Warren  went  on 
naively.  "What  reference  can  you  give? 
What  public  man  have  you  done  business 
with?" 

"All  this  is  absurd,"  Lewis  declared.  "Does 
twenty-five  thousand  go?" 

Jim  Warren  arose  and  lazily  stretched  his 
sinewy  arms.  Half  gaping  he  stood  at  the 
window  looking  out  upon  the  iron  yard.  'Twas 
there  that  his  fight  had  begun ;  'twas  there  that 
he'd  given  his  pledge  to  the  boys.  Finally  he 
turned  back  upon  his  caller. 

"Lewis,  I  haven't  started  on  you  yet,"  he 
said  quietly.  "When  I  do  I  won't  leave  a 
whole  bone  in  your  body."  He  thrust  a  cal 
loused  finger  into  the  boss's  face.  "I'm  going 
81 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

to  make  you  quit — believe  me;  I'm  going  to 
make  it  so  hot  for  you  you'll  be  glad  to  quit !" 
His  voice  had  risen  as  he  talked,  his  freckled 
face  glowed  with  anger,  the  sky-blue  eyes 
flamed.  "Now,  get  out  of  here ;  quick — quick ! 
I  can't  keep  my  hands  off  you !" 

Lewis,  vastly  astonished,  but  calm,  rose. 

"So  you  were  playing  a  game,  eh?"  he 
sneered.  "It's  just  as  well;  so  was  I."  Sud 
denly  his  self-possession  deserted  him,  the  pol 
ish  sloughed  off  and  he  raged  at  the  trick  that 
had  been  played  upon  him;  but  his  voice  was 
cold,  level,  merciless:  "My  grip  in  this  state 
extendr  further  back,  Warren,  than  you  can 
believe,  x'm  going  to  have  you  arrested  for 
safe  robbery  and  you'll  never  have  a  chance. 
Damn  you !  I'll  railroad  you !" 

Staring  straight  into  Lewis'  face,  Jim  War 
ren  laughed. 

"By  withdrawing  now,  Lewis,  you  can  save 
your  face!" 

82 


JIM    WARREN    TURNS    A   TRICK 

"Withdrawing?"  The  word  came  explo 
sively.  "I'll— I'll— " 

"You  have  just  placed  in  my  hands  the 
weapon  with  which  I'll  compel  you  to  with 
draw,"  Jim  Warren  continued.  "There's  no 
hurry  about  it,  though.  The  election  is  a  long 
time  off,  so  I  am  going  to  give  you  a  whole 
week  to  think  about  withdrawing  and  get 
used  to  the  idea.  I  have  the  weapon.  If,  at 
the  end  of  a  week,  you  don't  withdraw  I'll 
use  it !" 

Lewis  glanced  about  the  room,  dazed  with 
a  sudden  fear.  What  weapon?  Had  their 
conversation  been  overheard? 

"You  mean  some  one  has  been  listening  to 
us  ?"  he  demanded  thickly. 

"There's  not  a  soul  in  the  building,  Lewis!" 
Again  Jim  Warren  laughed. 

"I'll  railroad  you!"  Lewis  shouted,  crazed 
by  uncontrollable  anger  against  this  man.  "I'll 
railroad  you  for  safe  robbery!" 
83 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

"Go  ahead,"  Jim  Warren  urged.  "Have  me 
arrested.  I'll  wait  here  until  the  police  come. 
Or" — he  added  insolently — "or  shall  I  go 
along  with  you  now  to  the  police  station  ?" 


CHAPTER  X 

CAPRICIOUS   FATE 

FATE  arranges  the  affairs  of  this  world 
according  to  her  own  caprice.  So  strange 
ly  does  she  work  that  one  may  have  to  travel 
around  the  world  to  shake  hands  with  the  man 
who  lives  next  door.  It  was  Fate — the  kindli 
est  one  in  the  calendar — who  took  charge  of 
Jim  Warren  on  the  following  Sunday.  He 
had  stopped  in  at  the  factory  for  a  little  while 
and  then,  lured  into  the  open  by  the  zippy, 
nippy  air  of  fall,  had  boarded  a  trolley  car  and 
ridden  to  the  end  of  the  line,  some  dozen  or 
fifteen  miles  from  Warburton.  Crimson  for 
ests  and!  golden  hedges  had  beckoned  him  on 
even  then;  he  strode  straight  through  the  little 
village,  up  the  hill  on  the  other  side  and  looked 
down  into  the  rainbow  valley  beyond.  The 
85 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

ribbonlike  road  curved  seductively  a  thousand 
feet  farther  on.  He  would  go  that  far,  any 
way,  just  to  see  what  might  lie  around  the 
bend. 

He  paused  to  cut  a  slender  switch  and,  snap 
ping  it  against  his  leg  rhythmically,  went  on, 
inhaling  deep  breaths  of  the  scented  air.  He 
was  very  well  satisfied  with  himself,  was  Jim 
Warren,  on  this  particular  morning.  Things 
were  going  well  with  him  and,  above  all,  the 
big  idea  was  coming  through !  Any  doubt  that 
might  ever  have  existed  in  his  mind  as  to  this 
was  gone  now.  At  the  proper  time  and  in  the 
proper  way  he  would  make  Lewis  quit  if  he 
hadn't  already  quit  of  his  own  volition;  and 
then —  He  fell  to  building  air-castles.  He 
would  be  governor,  of  course — that  was  the 
natural  sequence  of  his  play — and  after  that 
anything  he  liked.  Governor  Warren !  United 
States  Senator  Warren !  He  grinned. 

Just  before  he  rounded  the  bend  he  caught 
the  steady  "tap-tap-tap"  of — what?  A  wood- 
86 


CAPRICIOUS    FATE 

pecker?  No;  it  was  a  more  metallic  sound 
than  that  He  strode  on;  then  he  saw.  Di 
rectly  ahead  of  him,  in  the  dip  of  the  valley, 
an  automobile  was  standing  beside  the  road 
• — a  long,  low,  rakish-looking  craft,  creamy 
white,  with  tan  trimmings.  The  daintiness  of 
its  color  scheme  contrasted  strangely  with  the 
lusty  look  of  the  brute,  high  of  wheel  and 
massive  of  axle.  "Tap-tap-tap,"  came  from 
underneath  the  car. 

As  he  drew  nearer  silently  through  the  dust, 
Jim  Warren  paused  uncertainly  for  an  instant. 
On  one  side  of  the  car,  from  underneath,  pro 
truded  a  pair  of  feet — silly  little  feet  they 
were,  incased  in  absurdly  sturdy  boots,  laced 
high  about  the  ankles.  By  George,  a  woman ! 
She  had  spread  her  blankets  on  the  ground 
and,  lying  flat  on  her  back,  was  at  work  under 
neath  the  car.  Apparently  she  paid  not  the 
slightest  attention  to  him  as  he  approached ;  as 
a  matter  of  fact,  she  didn't  hear  him.  "Tap- 
tap-tap,"  said  the  hammer. 

87 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

"Hello,  under  there!"  Jim  Warren  called. 
"Can  I  help?" 

The  feet  vanished  in  a  swirl  of  skirts,  some 
one  exclaimed,  "Goodness!"  in  a  startled  tone 
and  a  girl  scrambled  out  from  beneath  the  car. 
Her  hair  was  disheveled  and  strands  of  it  were 
stringing  down  over  her  face,  scarlet  from  ex 
ertion.  Across  an  alabaster  brow  was  a  streak 
of  grease ;  her  gloved  hands  were  smeared  with 
it.  So  was  the  hammer  she  held  in  one  of 
them. 

For  an  instant  the  girl  stared  up  into  his 
face  with  questioning  eyes.  Then  she  smiled. 

"Good  morning.    Is  it  you  ?" 

"Good  morning.    It  is." 

She  glanced  around  inquiringly. 

"Where  did  you  come  from?  How  did  you 
get  here?" 

"Nowhere;  walked,"  replied  Jim  Warren. 
"Can  I  help?" 

The  girl  pushed  the  hair  back  from  her  face 
with  a  greasy  glove. 


CAPRICIOUS    FATE 

"We  always  seem  to  meet  at  critical  mo 
ments,  don't  we  ?"  she  queried.  "The  last  time 
you  rescued  my  glove  from  a  dog ;  this  time — " 
She  laughed.  "Do  you  know  anything  about 
automobiles  ?" 

"Not  a  thing  in  the  world,  but  I  can  help," 
said  Jim  Warren.  "Are  you  way  out  here  all 
alone,  with  that  big — big  thing?"  The  tre 
mendous  size  of  the  car  rose  up  and  smote  him 
in  the  eye.  A  girl  alone  in  the  wilderness  with 
a  locomotive  like  that ! 

"All  alone,"  she  said.  "It's  a  new  car  and  I 
was  trying  it  out." 

He  dropped  on  the  ground  beside  her  and 
peered  underneath  the  car.  A  perfect  mess  of 
joints  and  bolts  and  levers  and  rods  and  nuts — 
a  million  of  them,  more  or  less.  It  made  his 
head  swim. 

"And  what,  may  I  ask,  is  the  matter?" 

"I  snapped  off  the  pin  in  my  first  universal 
joint,"  she  explained,  "and  the  flanges  are  bent 
so  I  can't  drive  it  out." 
89 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

He  looked  at  her  blankly. 

"You  don't  say!"  he  commented.  "Where 
is  it?  Perhaps  I  can  drive  it  out."  He  started 
to  crawl  underneath. 

"But  you  don't  know  anything  about  auto 
mobiles,"  she  expostulated. 

"But  I  do  know  something  about  machin 
ery,"  he  informed  her;  "and  a  universal  joint 
is  a' universal  joint  in  any  language."  Again 
he  started  to  crawl  underneath. 

"Take  off  your  coat  and  roll  up  your  sleeves, 
then,"  she  commanded.  "You  can't  wear 
clothes  under  an  automobile — that  is,  if  you 
ever  want  to  wear  them  again." 

He  obeyed  orders,  baring  two  sinewy  fore 
arms  that  she  had  only  to  look  at  to  know  that 
her  troubles  were  over.  They  put  their  heads 
together  under  the  car  and  she  explained  the 
trouble  in  detail.  He  knew  precisely  what  was 
the  matter,  but  he  liked  to  hear  her  talk. 

"And  now,"  he  said  at  the  end,  "a  monkey- 
wrench." 

90 


CAPRICIOUS    FATE 

She  handed  him  one,  some  five  or  six  inches 
long.  He  glanced  at  it,  mentally  compared  it 
with  the  great  piece  of  solid  steel  to  be  twisted 
back  into  shape  and  grinned. 

"My  dear  madam,  you  couldn't  set  a  watch 
with  that,"  he  said.  "I  mean  a  monkey- 
wrench  !" 

"I  have  another,  so  large  I  can  hardly  lift 
it,"  she  explained.  "I  call  it  grandpa  for  short." 

She  fumbled  in  the  tool-box  and  produced  it 
— a  two- foot  wrench  that  would  fit  into  a  man's 
hands,  with  jaws  on  it  like  the  maw  of  Doom. 
He  fitted  it  to  the  twisted  flange. 

"The  car  won't  move?"  he  asked. 

"No.  The  brake's  on." 

"Get  back  a  little,  please.  If  this  should  slip 
it  would  kill  you." 

There  are  ways  and  ways  of  bending  steel : 
one  the  quick,  violent  way,  which  will  snap  it 
off  like  glass ;  another,  a  slower,  steadier  way, 
by  which  it  can  be  eased  back  into  position. 
Jim  Warren  knew  his  metal.  Slowly  but  surely 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

the  sinews  in  his  lean  arms  flexed,  grew  taut 
and  the  massive  body  of  the  car  creaked  on  its 
springs.  It  was  muscle  against  steel.  The  girl, 
fascinated  by  the  tremendous  power  of  the 
shoulders  and  arms,  the  inflexibility  of  inexor 
able  steel,  suddenly  felt  very  weak  and  puny. 
She  had  tried  to  turn  that  with  a  small  wrench ! 
Might  as  well  have  used  a  hat-pin. 

"It's  moving,"  said  Jim  Warren,  without  so 
much  as  a  puff ;  then  after  a  moment :  "There ; 
I  think  we  can  drive  out  the  broken  pin  now. 
Have  you  an  extra  one?" 

The  broken  pin  fell  out  as  he  spoke;  it  was 
five  minutes'  work  to  put  in  a  new  one;  then 
they  both  crawled  out  from  under  the  car  and 
sat  on  the  ground  looking  at  each  other. 

"I  don't  know  how  I'll  ever  be  able  to  thank 
you,"  said  the  girl.  "I  can't  imagine  what  I 
would  have  done  if  you  hadn't  come  along.  I've 
been  here  more  than  an  hour." 

Jim  Warren  cleaned  his  hands  on  a  piece  of 
waste. 

92 


CAPRICIOUS    FATE 

"Do  you  know,"  he  remarked  irrelevantly, 
"I  have  the  strangest  impression  of  having  met 
you  somewhere  before?" 

"That  day  in  the  bank,  of  course." 

"Before  that,"  he  corrected.  "I  wonder 
where  it  could  have  been  ?" 

"I  wonder !"  She  was  bending  over  the  tool 
box,  replacing  "grandpa."  There  was  a  queer, 
introspective  light  in  her  limpid  eyes.  "I  had 
that  impression  the  first  time  I  saw  you,"  she 
went  on.  "It  must  have  been  because  I  had 
seen  your  picture  in  the  newspapers.  I  know 
who  you  are,  of  course,"  she  added  hastily. 

"You  do?"  Jim  Warren  asked  almost  ea 
gerly.  "I  am  at  a  disadvantage,  then.  I  don't 
know  who — " 

"You  are  Mr.  Jim  Warren,  of  Warburton, 
and  you  are  running  against  Mr.  Lewis  for  the 
legislature !"  There  was  mockery  in  her  eyes. 

"I  am;  and  further  I  shall  have  the  satisfac 
tion  of  beating  him — believe  me,"  said  Jim 
Warren. 

93 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

The  girl  laughed  lightly  and  shook  her  head. 

"It's  been  tried  before." 

"I  know ;  but  I've  got  his  number." 

The  girl  leaned  forward  and  pressed  a  but 
ton.  The  engine  crackled  and  roared,  then  set 
tled  down  to  a  quiet  purring. 

"If  you  do  beat  him,"  she  taunted,  "it  may 
be  that  you  and  I  will  meet  again.  I  live  in 
Sandringham,  the  capital,  you  know.  If  you 
don't  beat  him  we  probably  will  not  meet 
again."  She  offered  a  slim,  bare  hand;  Jim 
Warren  took  it.  "If  you  do  beat  him  I  shan't 
like  you  in  spite  of  all  you've  done  for  me;  if 
you  don't  I  will.  Good-by.  I'm  more  than  an 
hour  late  and  Sandringham  is  twenty-five 
miles  away." 

She  leaped  lightly  into  the  car,  pushed  one 
lever,  pulled  another — and  the  car  moved. 

"Au  revoir!"  she  said. 

Jim  Warren  stood  looking  after  her  until  the 
car  swung  over  a  hill  in  the  distance  and  van- 
94 


CAPRICIOUS    FATE 

ished  below  it.   Turning,  he  strode  back  up  the 
hill  toward  the  trolley  line. 

"I  wonder  who  she  is !"  He  asked  the  ques 
tion  a  dozen  times.  An  hour  later  it  occurred 
to  him  that,  had  he  taken  the  trouble  to  notice 
the  number  of  the  car  and  inquired  at  the  first 
police  station,  that  question,  in  all  probability, 
would  have  been  answered. 


95 


CHAPTER  XI 

JIM    WARREN    RAISES 

WITH  his  gaze  immovably  fixed  upon 
some  trivial  ornament  of  his  desk,  his 
mouth  set,  his  hands  clenched,  Lewis  was  giv 
ing  orders  sharply  through  closed  teeth. 
Franques  was  jotting  them  down  in  notes  on 
the  back  of  an  old  envelope.  There  was  an  air 
of  humility  about  Franques,  an  oily  deference 
in  his  tone,  an  obsequiousness  in  his  manner, 
which  were  belied  by  the  evil  glitter  of  his 
beady  eyes  and  the  sardonic  twist  of  his  thin 
lips.  It  was  all  lost  upon  Lewis.  For  him  there 
remained  only  one  thought,  one  idea  in  the 
world — to  crush  Jim  Warren.  He'd  given  him, 
Lewis,  a  week  to  get  used  to  the  idea  of  with 
drawing!  An  ultimatum!  It  was  a  bluff,  of 
course!  Nobody  had  heard  their  conversation, 
therefore —  A  bluff — and  a  crude  one. 
96 


JIM    WARREN    RAISES 

"See  Big  Tom  Simmonds  this  morning," 
Lewis  was  saying,  "and  tell  him  I  want  Jim 
Warren's  name  kept  out  of  the  caucus  of  his 
machine  at  any  cost." 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Franques. 

"Tell  him,  further,  that  Jim  Warren  must 
not  be  so  much  as  mentioned  in  the  primaries. 
I'll  look  after  my  end ;  I'll  expect  him  to  look 
after  his." 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Tell  him,  also,  that  under  these  conditions 
the  deal  I  talked  over  with  him  the  other  day  is 
on,  if  he's  willing — that  is,  he  is  to  have  the 
mayor  and  council  in  return  for  his  machine's 
support  of  me  against  Warren." 

Franques  looked  up  in  surprise. 

"That's  a  fat  price  you're  paying,"  he  ven 
tured. 

"No  comments,"  Lewis  snarled.  "Do  as  I 
say." 

"Yes,  sir."  Franques'  lips  turned  up  slightly 
at  the  corners.  "That  all  ?" 

97 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

"That's  all." 

There  was  joy  around  Big  Tom  Simmonds' 
throne  when  Franques  brought  the  glad  tidings. 
It  had  been  something  like  four  years  since  Big 
Tom  had  been  compelled  to  loosen  his  grip  on 
Warburton's  throat — four  lean,  hungry  years 
— and  his  ringers  were  itching. 

"Tell  Lewis  he's  on,"  was  his  characteristic 
reply.  "My  machine  would  nominate  the  devil 
himself  in  caucus  if  I  knew  we  could  put  over 
the  mayor  and  council !" 

Lewis  received  the  answer  in  silence,  then 
sat  down  to  wait.  It  was  Jim  Warren's  move. 
What  would  it  be?  The  production  of  more 
photographs?  He  shuddered  at  the  thought. 
Day  after  day  passed  and  no  more  photographs 
appeared.  Slowly  but  surely  a  nervous  elation 
took  possession  of  Lewis.  Of  course  no  more 
photographs  appeared,  for  the  simple  reason 
that  Jim  Warren  had  no  more !  After  all  it  had 
only  been  an  assumption  of  Franques'  that  all 
the  papers  in  the  safe  had  been  copied.  The 
98 


JIM    WARREN    RAISES 

conjecture  soothed  him;  confidence  came  back. 
Of  course  he'd  beat  Jim  Warren.  Two  or  three 
newspapers  and  half  a  dozen  labor  organiza 
tions  had  declared  for  him,  but  even  at  that 
he'd  beat  him  with  Simmonds'  support. 

He  put  a  question  to  Franques  one  day,  the 
answer  still  further  restored  his  belief  in  the 
future. 

"Why  is  Jim  Warren  holding  off?" 

"To  a  man  up  a  tree  it  would  seem  he's  hold 
ing  off  because  he  has  no  more  photographs," 
Franques  replied,  with  a  shrug  of  his  dusty 
shoulders.  "Of  course  there  may  be  other  rea 
sons,  but  that  is  the  obvious  answer." 

"I  suppose  there's  no  earthly  way  to  get  hold 
of  them  if  he  has?"< — tentatively. 

"I'd  be  afraid  to  try  again — he'd  shoot  the 
next  man,"  Franques  declared.  "Besides,  if  he 
has  no  more,  what's  the  use?" 

The  week  passed,  and  Jim  Warren  had  failed 
to  make  good  on  his  ultimatum.  Lewis  laughed 
outright  with  relief  and  from  that  moment  be- 
99 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

gan  his  big  planning  for  the  fight  that  was  to 
come.  While  Jim  Warren  was  around  talking 
from  the  tail  of  a  tip-cart  to  the  men  who  toiled 
he  would  open  his  campaign  with  a  rally  that 
would  smother  all  that  had  gone  before  or 
would  come  after.  He'd  bring  Lieutenant- 
Governor  Hope  and  United  States  Senator 
Fynes  and  Speaker  Tillinghast  down  to  War- 
burton  from  the  capital  and  smash  Jim  Warren 
once  for  all!  Meanwhile,  some  night,  he'd 
run  around  in  his  automobile  and — unobserved 
himself — look  over  this  crowd  of  Jim  War 
ren's.  It  might  be  interesting. 

It  was  a  night  or  so  later  that  Jim  Warren 
took  a  running  jump  through  Lewis'  dream, 
like  a  circus  performer  through  a  paper  hoop. 
He  laid  aside  the  popgun  with  which  he  had 
been  campaigning  and  unmasked  his  thirteen- 
inch  battery.  Lewis  and  his  henchman, 
Franques,  tucked  away  behind  the  closely 
drawn  curtains  of  an  automobile  standing  near, 
were  there  and  heard  it 
100 


"Boys,"  Jim  Warren  began,  with  that  quiz 
zical  grin  of  his,  "it's  all  over  but  the  shouting. 
To-morrow  Francis  Everard  Lewis  is  going  to 
withdraw  in  my  favor.  At  the  caucus  of  his 
machine  next  week  Francis  Everard  Lewis,  in 
person,  will  present  my  name  and  make  me  the 
candidate  of  his  party  instead  of  himself.  He 
doesn't  know  it  yet,  but  he'll  do  it." 

"Is  this  man  an  idiot  ?"  Lewis  growled. 

Franques  didn't  say. 

"With  you  fellows  and  the  indorsement  of 
his  machine  no  earthly  power  can  stop  me ;  and 
his  machine  will  indorse  me,  whether  he  likes 
it  or  not — it  will  indorse  me  because  Francis 
Everard  Lewis  is  its  boss  and  he'll  tell  it  to." 

Whereupon,  quietly  and  succinctly,  Jim 
Warren  detailed  the  conditions  of  the  deal  by 
which  Simmonds  was  to  have  the  mayor  and 
council  in  return  for  his  support  of  Lewis  for 
the  legislature.  Lewis  squirmed  uneasily. 
There  hadn't  been  a  hint  of  this  in  the  public 
prints.  How  did  Jim  Warren  know  it? 
101 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

"You  can  search  me!"  Franques  answered. 

Following  this  Jim  Warren  commented  at 
some  length  upon  that  splendid  economy  by 
which  Lewis,  in  ten  years,  had  saved  enough 
out  of  his  salary  of  eight  hundred  dollars  a 
year  to  build  ten  tenement  houses  and  still 
have  money  in  bank. 

"Of  course,"  Jim  Warren  grinned,  "it  might 
not  have  been  merely  economy.  It  is  barely 
possible  that  this  affidavit  may  have  some  bear 
ing." 

From  his  pocket  he  produced  a  bank  record, 
with  an  affidavit  attached,  showing  that  the  oc 
topus  had  once  loaned  a  trifling  sum  of  fifty 
thousand  dollars  to  Lewis  on  an  unindorsed 
demand  note  that  bore  on  its  face  the  magical 
words:  "No  protest  and  no  interest."  That 
note,  dated  four  years  before,  had  been  charged 
off  against  the  account  of  the  octopus.  Lewis 
swayed,  felt  himself  slipping,  and  seized 
Franques'  arm  with  damp,  chilled  fingers. 
Franques  looked  at  him  and  was  silent. 
1 02 


JIM    WARREN    RAISES 

"Oh,  you  Jim  Warren!"  came  out  of  the 
crowd  in  the  voice  of  old  Bob  Allaire.  "Go  to 
him,  boy !" 

Jim  Warren  laughed  and  produced  from  a 
suit-case  on  the  tip-cart  behind  him  a  phono 
graph,  which,  in  the  thunderous  clamor  follow 
ing  upon  his  last  statement,  he  deliberately 
adjusted  and  set  up  on  a  box.  Lewis  stared, 
stared  with  his  eyes  almost  bursting  from  his 
head.  Jim  Warren  turned  to  the  throng,  with 
one  hand  upon  the  lever  of  the  phonograph; 
the  flambeaux  lighted  his  face,  tensely  earnest 
now. 

"Here  is  why  Francis  Everard  Lewis  is  go 
ing  to  quit,"  he  screamed  suddenly.  "Listen  to 
the  manner  of  man  he  is!  Judge  him  by  his 
own  words!  The  first  voice  is  mine." 

"You  want  me  to  quit  ?"  grated  the  machine. 
That  was  Jim  Warren. 

"Now,  Lewis!"  Jim  Warren  shouted. 

"Well,  it's  unfortunate  that  we  should  be  op 
posed,"  came  from  the  phonograph  in  Lewis' 
103 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

smooth,  suave  voice.  "Matters  might  have 
been  adjusted  in  another  way  if  I  had  only  un 
derstood.  Now,  if  you  had  proceeded  in  the 
regular  way — " 

White  as  chalk,  with  strange  lines  veined 
across  his  face,  Lewis  leaned  forward  and 
spoke  to  the  chauffeur.  The  car  sped  away. 

There  was  dead  silence  in  the  crowd  save  for 
the  light  whir  of  the  phonograph  and  the  thin 
piping  voices  that  were  born  of  it — dead  silence 
to  the  end  of  that  interview  in  Jim  Warren's 
private  office,  and  then — chaos!  Upon  the 
shoulders  of  his  fellows  Jim  Warren  was 
hoisted  and  borne  through  the  streets.  The 
surging  mob  halted  traffic,  jeered  at  the  staying 
hands  of  the  police,  hooted  Lewis  and  raised 
the  name  of  Jim  Warren  to  the  skies. 

From  a  darkened  window  of  his  apartments 
in  the  Hotel  Stanton,  Lewis  looked  down  upon 
the  crowd  in  the  street  and  knew  that  the  end 
had  come.  His  power  was  broken ;  he  was  be 
ing  butchered  to  make  a  Roman  holiday — this 
104 


JIM    WARREN    RAISES 

red-headed  Warren  person  was  an  idol ;  he  had 
beaten  him,  Lewis,  at  his  own  game — trickery ! 
He  wondered  if  he  would  go  further!  If  he 
might,  perchance,  in  the  first  flush  of  exulta 
tion,  proceed  to  criminal  prosecution!  He 
shuddered ! 

There  came  a  knock  at  the  door.  Lewis 
whirled  with  a  poignant  apprehension  of  dan 
ger.  Perhaps  the  police  were  there  now!  His 
teeth  snapped ;  he  opened  the  door.  Some  news 
paper  men  wanted  to  see  him.  The  door 
crashed  in  their  faces.  .  .  .  After  a  while  he 
thought  of  Edna.  She  must  not  know !  .  .  . 
He  called  Tillinghast  on  the  long  distance. 

"For  the  love  of  God  don't  let  Edna  see  to 
morrow's  newspapers!"  he  pleaded  over  the 
wire. 

"What's  the  matter?"  asked  Tillinghast,  be 
wildered.  "What's  happened  ?" 

"Don't  let  her  see  them — you'll  know  why 
when  you  see  them!" 

Next  morning  Franques,  meek,  unemotional, 
105 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

brought  in  the  newspapers  and  the  early  morn 
ing  mail. 

"Come  back  at  noon,"  Lewis  directed. 

"Yes,  sir." 

Franques  vanished  as  silently  as  he  had  come. 
Lewis  opened  the  newspapers  with  unsteady 
hands.  There  it  was!  He  read  it  without 
comment.  .  .  .  There  was  some  mail,  too. 
One  envelope  bore  the  mark  of  the  Atlas  Plow 
Works.  He  opened  it : 

"Will  it  be  necessary  for  me  to  go  further  ? 
Will  you  quit?  Will  your  machine  indorse 
me?  Or  shall  I  proceed  to  criminal  prosecu 
tion? 

"JAMES  PALMER  WARREN." 


1 06 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE    HIGH    HAND   WINS 

D WIGHT  TILLINGHAST  raised  his  eyes 
to  those  of  his  daughter,  across  the 
breakfast  table. 

"I  heard  from  Lewis  last  night  just  before 
twelve,"  he  remarked. 

"Yes?"— eagerly. 

"He  called  me  up  by  long  distance  to  ask  me 
to  ask  you  not  to  read  to-day's  newspapers." 

Edna  arched  her  brows  in  perplexity,  and 
held  her  coffee-cup  suspended  in  midair. 

"Why  not  ?"  she  queried. 

"Because" — Tillinghast  paused  to  clear  his 

throat — "because — well,  there  are  many  things 

in  politics  you  would  not  understand,  my  dear. 

Last  night,  for  instance,  a  very  bitter  and  very 

107 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

violent  attack  was  made  upon  Lewis  by  this 
Jim  Warren  person  in  Warburton." 

Edna  flushed  a  little,  finished  pouring  the 
coffee  and  put  down  the  pot. 

"Why  shouldn't  I  read  it  ?"  she  asked. 

"His  request,  I  am  sure,  was  made  out  of 
consideration  for  your  feelings,"  her  father 
went  on  to  explain.  "He  is  very  thoughtful  of 
you.  Politicians,  my  dear,  have  to  be  thick- 
skinned,  particularly  a  man  in  Lewis'  position. 
He  is  a  man  of  great  power,  therefore  a  man 
peculiarly  liable  to  attack.  He  cares  nothing 
about  it  himself,  but  he  hates  to  think  that  it 
might  bring  you  pain,  even  indirectly."  He  was 
silent  a  moment.  "In  this  instance,  I  thor 
oughly  agree  with  him  and  shall  add  my  re 
quest  to  his  own." 

Edna  shrugged  her  shoulders,  and  was  silent. 

"It's  all  for  the  best,  my  dear,"  her  father 

went  on  pleasantly.     "Remember  I  am  under 

many  obligations  to  Mr.  Lewis,  and  you  are 

under  even  a  greater  obligation  because  of  your 

1 08 


'I  heard  from  Lewis  last  night" 


THE    HIGH    HAND    WINS 

— your  betrothal  to  him.  I  think  it  wisest  and 
best  that  you  obey  his — our — wishes  in  this 
instance." 

"Certainly,"  the  girl  agreed;  "but  it  seems 
rather  absurd — doesn't  it?  Everybody  in  the 
world  will  know  just  what  it  is  except  me,  and 
I  have  a  greater  right  than  anybody." 

"The  circumstances  are  unusual,"  her  father 
pointed  out. 

They  finished  their  breakfast  in  silence  and 
Edna  arose  to  go.  At  the  door  she  lingered  a 
moment. 

"This — this  attack,"  she  queried.  "You  say 
it  was  personal  ?" 

"Purely  personal,  my  dear." 

"Will  it  in  any  way  affect  Francis' — his 
chance  of  election?"  She  faltered  a  little  as 
she  asked  the  question. 

"One  can  never  tell,  Edna,  just  what  effect 
such  attacks  as  this  will  have."  Mr.  Tillinghast 
faltered  a  little,  too. 

The  girl's  eyes  were  blazing. 
109 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

"You  mean  that  there  is  a  chance  that 
Francis  will  be — defeated?" 

"There  is  always  a  chance,"  her  father  told 
her  gently.  "Or,  it  may  cause  changes  in  his 
plans  of  a  totally  different  nature.  After  all, 
suppose  you  wait  and  talk  it  over  with  Lewis 
himself.  He  can  make  you  understand;  I 
couldn't." 

"A  personal  attack,  you  say?"  remarked  the 
girl.  "That  would  involve  his  integrity, 
wouldn't  it?  I  could  hardly  believe  that  this 
Jim — this  Mr.  Warren  would  descend  to  that." 

Tillinghast  arose  and  went  to  her.  The  slen 
der  little  figure  was  atremble  with  indignation. 

"He  wants  the  job,  my  dear,"  said'  her 
father.  "There  seems  to  be  no  limit  to  what 
he  would  do  to  get  it.  His  campaign  through 
out  has  been  based  upon  personalities." 

Edna  stood  staring  straight  into  the  puffy 
eyes  for  an  instant,  then  turned  away  suddenly 
and  went  to  her  room. 

That  afternoon,  forty  miles  away,  in  War- 
no 


THE   HIGH    HAND    WINS 

burton,  Lewis  had  decided  upon  his  course  and 
was  giving  the  necessary  instructions  to 
Franques. 

"See  Big  Tom  Simmonds,"  he  directed,  "and 
tell  him  that  our  deal  is  off." 

"Yes,  sir." 

"I  spoke  to  the  Commissioners  of  Elections 
about  keeping  Jim  Warren's  name  off  the  bal 
lots.  Tell  them  that  is  off,  too." 

"Yes,  sir."  Franques'  evil  eyes  were  gleam 
ing  ;  his  swarthy  face  was  flushed  slightly. 

"Some  time  this  afternoon  make  a  dozen 
copies  of  this  letter  of  withdrawal  I  have 
drafted  and  get  it  to  all  the  newspapers  in  time 
for  publication  to-morrow  morning." 

That  was  all.  Suave,  courteous,  soft-spoken 
as  ever,  Lewis  received  the  newspaper  men.  He 
answered  no  questions — merely  smiled  genially 
and  told  them  that  in  view  of  the  popular  de 
mand  for  Jim  Warren,  he  would  not  only  retire 
from  the  race  but  personally  he  would  bring 
Jim  Warren's  name  before  the  caucus  of  his 
in 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

party.  That,  of  course,  was  equivalent  to  Jim 
Warren's  election.  He  didn't  care  to  discuss 
the  slight  misunderstanding  he  had  had  with 
Jim  Warren.  It  was  trivial  and  personal. 

"How  about  that  fifty-thousand-dollar 
note?" 

He  had  nothing  further  to  say. 

"How  about  your  offer  of  twenty-five  thou 
sand  if  Jim  Warren  would  quit?" 

He  had  nothing  further  to  say. 

"Don't  you  intend  to  make  any  denials  ?" 

He  had  nothing  further  to  say. 

"How  about  that  phonographic  interview? 
How  did  Jim  Warren  get  it  ?  What  about  the 
deal  on  the  mayoralty  ?  What  safe  was  robbed  ? 
Who  did  it?  Where  was  it?  When?  What 
was  in  it?" 

Really,  gentlemen,  he  could  not  discuss  the 
matter  further. 

There  was  a  grin  of  triumph  on  Jim  War 
ren's  freckled  face  on  the  following  morning 
when  he  read  Lewis'  letter  of  withdrawal  and 
112 


THE    HIGH    HAND    WINS 

coupled  therewith  his  statement.  The  grin  lin 
gered,  until,  in  glancing  through  his  mail,  he 
opened  an  envelope  and  took  out  a  single  sheet 
of  paper,  with  just  a  few  lines,  unsigned : 

"The  time  never  comes  when  it  is  necessary 
to  revile  an  individual  merely  because  you  want 
his  political  head.  I  didn't  believe  you  capable 
of  it" 

It  was  the  handwriting  of  a  woman.  A  sig 
nature  would  have  meant  nothing ;  he  knew  in 
stantly  whence  it  came,  and  gazed  at  it  a  long 
time  in  deep  abstraction. 

It  was  a  landslide  for  Jim  Warren.  Big 
Tom  Simmonds  had  roared  mightily  in  the  heat 
of  his  indignation  against  Lewis  when  the 
mayoralty  deal  was  called  off  and  the  city  slid 
from  under  his  greedy  fingers — roared  might 
ily,  and  in  his  excitement  thrust  in  a  candidate 
to  oppose  Jim  Warren  or  Lewis  or  whoever 
else  there  was  to  be  opposed.  Nobody  ever 
heard  of  his  candidate  again. 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

Lewis  received  the  returns  in  the  seclusion 
of  his  apartments,  whence  he  could  look  down 
upon  the  noisy  crowd  without.  At  last,  wear 
ily,  he  dropped  back  into  a  chair.  At  that 
instant  his  eyes  met  Franques'  and  he  was 
startled  by  the  savage  exultation  he  read  there. 

"What's  the  matter?"  he  demanded  sharply. 

"It's  come — it's  come  at  last !"  Franques  ex 
claimed  fiercely.  His  claw-like  fingers  were 
knotted,  his  lips  tightly  compressed.  Lewis 
drew  back  uneasily. 

"What's  come?  What  are  you  talking 
about?" 

"I'm  the  next  political  boss  of  this  state!" 
Franques  burst  out  violently.  "I  found  Jim 
Warren;  I  showed  him  how  to  win;  I  made 
him.  I  gave  him  the  photographs  of  the  con 
tents  of  your  saf e ;  I  told  him  every  move  you 
planned  before  you  made  it ;  we've  tricked  you 
out  of  your  shoes.  Now  I  am  the  boss !" 

For  a  time  Lewis  merely  stared  at  him.  It 
was  quite  clear.  This  man  whom  he  had 
114 


THE    HIGH    HAND    WINS 

trusted  above  all  others  had  betrayed  him,  had 
sold  him — that  was  how  Jim  Warren  had  made 
himself  invincible.   Finally  Lewis  spoke : 
"You  dog!"  he  said. 

About  midnight  Jim  Warren,  drunk  with  his 
victory,  forsook  the  adulation  of  his  followers 
and  went  home.  He  sat  there  for  a  long  time, 
thinking  of  many  things.  At  last  the  clock 
struck  four.  He  arose  and  removed  his  coat. 

"When  you  mark  your  cards  right,  you've 
got  to  win !"  he  said  grimly.  "The  big  idea  is 
a  pippin — yet."  He  was  silent  a  moment ;  then 
came  that  illuminating  grin  of  his.  "I  wonder 
how  much  an  enterprising,  red-headed  young 
fellow  could  pick  up  in  this  new  job  of  mine?" 
Again  he  was  silent  for  a  little.  "I'll  meet  her 
somewhere,"  he  added  irrelevantly.  "She  said 
if  I  won  we'd  meet  again." 


CHAPTER  XIII 

THE   DOUBLE-CROSS 

WHEN,  by  some  quirk  of  Fate,  an  un 
known  leaps  into  sudden  and  spec 
tacular  political  success  he  instantly  becomes, 
by  right  of  victory,  that  sterling  young  patriot 
and  rising  young  statesman ;  when  he  f ails,,  the 
world  hoots  at  him.  Jim  Warren,  the  un 
known,  succeeded.  On  the  morning  following 
that  achievement  Jim  Warren  was  no  more.  In 
his  stead  there  was  the  Honorable  James  Pal 
mer  Warren,  our  distinguished  fellow-towns 
man  and  newly  elected  representative  from  the 
Warburton  District.  However,  the  Honorable 
James  Palmer  Warren  was  no  whit  less  red 
headed  and  blue-eyed  and  freckle- faced  than 
the  original  Jim  Warren.  His  arm  was  as  sin- 
116 


THE   DOUBLE-CROSS 

ewy,  his  fist  as  hard,  his  grin  as  ready ;  he  lived 
in  the  same  modest  room  and  plugged  away  at 
the  same  old  desk. 

For  a  week  or  more,  letters  and  telegrams  of 
congratulation  poured  in  upon  him.  The  first 
of  these  was  from  Francis  Everard  Lewis.  Jim 
Warren  chuckled  as  he  read  it,  but  it  didn't  sur 
prise  him.  Lewis'  attitude  was  as  transparent 
as  the  ambient  air.  He  had  picked  up  a  poker 
by  the  hot  end;  dexterously  and  smilingly  he 
was  trying  to  hold  on  until  it  cooled  off.  He 
couldn't  have  what  he  wanted,  therefore,  he 
would  take  what  he  could  get.  There  was  fear 
back  of  this  craven  fawning,  but  there  was 
politics,  too.  Jim  Warren  was  a  man  of  power 
— he  had  acquired  it  suddenly  and  sensation 
ally — and  a  political  boss  is  compelled  to  re 
spect  power  that  he  can't  smash. 

Two  or  three  days  later  came  a  courteous  lit 
tle  note  from  Dwight  Tillinghast,  the  speaker. 
It   brought    Mr.    Tillinghast's    heartiest   con 
gratulations  to  Mr.  Warren  upon  his  splendid 
117 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

victory,  being  altogether  the  oily  sort  of  effu 
sion  that  was  intended  to  convey  the  impression 
that  Tillinghast  had  been  sitting  up  nights  root 
ing  for  Jim  Warren's  success.  Tucked  away  at 
the  bottom  was  an  invitation  to  dine  informally 
at  his  home.  Jim  Warren  accepted,  knowing 
perfectly  what  it  must  portend.  It  was  simply 
that  Tillinghast  was  making  an  effort  to  win 
a  friend  in  the  new  man  and  he  didn't  scruple 
to  use  his  social  position  to  that  end.  Another 
bright  thought  of  Lewis' !  If  Tillinghast  would 
be  governor — that,  with  a  United  States  sen- 
atorship  in  view — he  must  draw  to  himself  men 
like  Jim  Warren. 

The  dinner  was  a  week  or  so  off ;  meanwhile 
Jim  Warren  had  some  trivial  matters  to  dispose 
of.  So  rapidly  had  he  hewn  that  he  hadn't  had 
time  to  clear  away  his  chips  behind  him.  Now 
he  started  in  methodically  to  clean  up.  First, 
in  compliance  with  the  state  law,  he  filed  his 
campaign  expense  account.  Its  publication 
brought  a  smile.  It  was  something  like  this : 
118 


THE   DOUBLE-CROSS 

i  phonograph $12.00 

Lights   for  meetings 8.40 

Cigars    65 

i  pk.  of  cigarettes 10 


Total    $21.15 

Next  Jim  Warren  resigned  from  the  Atlas 
Plow  Works  and  began  to  close  up  a  few  per 
sonal  affairs,  in  preparation  for  his  removal 
to  Sandringham,  the  state  capital. 

These  things  disposed  of,  there  remained 
Franques — Franques,  that  lank,  dusty-looking, 
evil-eyed  genius  whose  betrayal  of  his  master 
had  made  Jim  Warren  possible.  Jim  Warren 
was  not  proud  of  the  means  he  had  employed 
to  win,  but  he  had  had  no  choice.  It  was  that 
or  stay  out;  and  the  big  idea  would  have  per 
ished  of  inanition.  So  it  was,  from  the  very 
beginning,  he  and  Franques  had  worked  with  a 
complete  understanding  and  their  plans  had 
fruited  perfectly.  Franques*  motive?  He 
didn't  know  and  he  didn't  care.  He  only  knew 
119 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

that  Franques  had  arranged  everything,  even 
down  to  the  silly  incident  of  capturing  the 
burglar ;  and  only  once,  and  that  for  just  a  mo 
ment,  did  Lewis  suspect. 

It  was  not  pleasant  for  Jim  Warren  to  think 
over  these  things  and  it  was  still  less  pleasant 
to  think  of  the  forthcoming  reckoning  with 
Franques.  He  didn't  know  what  to  expect ;  he 
only  knew  that  Franques  was  not  a  part  of  the 
big  idea — that  was  still  to  be  put  to  the  touch. 
Suppose  Franques'  long  pent-up  and  unex 
plained  hatred  against  Lewis  should  be  turned 
against  him,  Jim  Warren?  In  preparation  for 
the  interview  Jim  Warren  placed  a  small  re 
volver  beneath  a  paper  on  the  table  beside  him ; 
then,  ashamed  of  himself,  he  put  it  back  where 
it  belonged. 

Franques  came  to  him  in  answer  to  his  sum 
mons — came,  meek-faced,  and  deposited  his 
dusty-looking  person  on  the  edge  of  a  chair  and 
his  dusty-looking  hat  on  the  floor  beside  him. 
He  had  not  obtruded  since  Jim  Warren's  vic- 
120 


THE   DOUBLE-CROSS 

tory ;  he  had  waited  to  be  sent  for.  He  could 
bide  his  time,  for  was  not  he  the  master  ?  Had 
he  not  made  Jim  Warren?  Did  he  not  hold, 
through  Jim  Warren,  a  slice  of  the  state  in  his 
hand?  Could  he  not  garner  his  profit  at  his 
own  will  ? 

"Franques,"  Jim  Warren  began  abruptly,  "I 
am  admitting  every  obligation  to  you  that  you 
can  possibly  impose  upon  me.  I'll  deny  noth 
ing.  It  was  your  fight — you  won  it — I  was 
merely  the  pawn.  We  are  agreed  upon  these 
things  as  a  general  ground  for  this  discussion." 
He  stopped  and  his  eyes  met  those  of  the  other 
man  squarely.  There  was  a  moment's  tense 
pause.  "Now,  I'm  going  to  double-cross  you, 
Franques — pass  you  out.  I've  finished  with 
you.  Do  you  get  it?" 

For  a  minute  or  more  Franques  gazed  at 
him,  silent,  inscrutable;  then  drew  one  of  his 
claw-like  hands  across  his  brow  as  if  to  sweep 
away  something  there.  It  was  his  eyes  that 
Jim  Warren  was  watching — he  found  no  ink- 

121 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

ling  there  of  what  was  going  through  the  cun 
ning  brain  behind  them. 

"Why?"  Franques  queried  at  last  There 
was  not  the  slightest  trace  of  emotion  in  his 
voice. 

"You'll  understand  it  better,"  replied  Jim 
Warren  steadily,  "if  I  tell  you  that  I'm  going 
to  do  to  you  only  what  you  did  to  Lewis.  I'm 
going  to  do  it  because  I've  got  the  foothold  I 
want  and  it  can't  be  taken  away  from  me.  In 
cidentally,  I  am  going  to  be  the  next  governor 
of  this  state  and  the  power  of  no  man  can  stop 
me!" 

"What  makes  you  think  that?"  Franques 
asked  in  the  same  quiet  manner.  "Do  you 
think  that  what  you  have  done  will  get  that  job 
for  you  so  soon  ?  Do  you  think — " 

"I  know  that  I  have  done  one  thing,  which 
doesn't  happen  to  be  known  to  you  or  any  other 
person,  that  will  win  for  me  any  job  within  the 
gift  of  the  people  of  this  state  the  instant  I  de 
clare  myself,"  said  Jim  Warren  steadily. 

122 


THE    DOUBLE-CROSS 

"There's  been  one  definite  idea  back  of  every 
thing  I  have  done  thus  far — the  big  idea.  With 
that  idea  I'm  going  to  stand  this  state  on  its 
head  when  the  time  comes." 

"What  is  it?"  Franques  asked.  He  didn't 
seem  to  be  angry  or  even  disappointed.  His 
was  the  placid  tone  of  one  who  reasons  with  a 
wilful  child.  Never  before  had  he  been  able  to 
inspect  at  close  range  so  monumental  an  exam 
ple  of  egotism.  Jim  Warren  was  suffering 
intensely  from  arrogance,  growing  out  of  an 
overdose  of  spotlight.  "What  is  it?"  he  re 
peated. 

"You  only  made  one  mistake  in  your  esti 
mate  of  me,  Franques,"  Jim  Warren  continued. 
"We  agreed  that  I  should  take  the  holier-than- 
thou  attitude.  I  was  to  pose  as  an  honest  man, 
a  representative  of  labor — that's  all.  You  were 
to  take  care  of  the  rest  of  it.  You  did.  With 
the  power  you  placed  in  my  hands  by  your  be 
trayal  of  Lewis,  I  won.  The  mistake  you  made 
was  your  failure  to  take  into  account  the  fact 
123 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

that  I  am  an  honest  man.  The  people  of  this 
state  suspect  it  now;  before  I  finish  I'll  con 
vince  'em  of  it  in  a  manner  they  never  dreamed 
of — and  won't  forget." 

"Lots  of  honest  men  don't  get  to  be  gov 
ernor."  Franques  came  back  to  the  point  that 
interested  him  most.  "How  are  you  going  to 
doit?" 

"How?"  Jim  Warren  echoed.  "I've  marked 
the  cards.  This  political  game  is  played  with 
a  marked  pack.  I've  marked  this  pack!  I've 
shuffled  'em  myself  and  dealt  myself  the  high 
hand.  Now  I'm  going  to  play  it  out."  He 
stopped;  the  tense  earnestness  of  his  manner 
passed,  his  tone  became  quite  casual.  "So  far 
as  my  relations  with  you  are  concerned,  you 
never  had  a  chance.  I've  no  sentiment  about  it 
at  all.  I  never  intended  from  the  first  to  do 
anything  but  double-cross  you,  once  I  was 
elected.  You  thought  I  was  easy ;  I  could  see  it 
in  your  eyes  that  first  day  we  met — I  knew  it 
when  you  made  your  proposition.  I  accepted 
124 


THE    DOUBLE-CROSS 

that  proposition  and  played  upon  your  selfish 
ness  and  desire  for  revenge  upon  Lewis  to  use 
you,  to  make  you  advance  my  interests.  I've 
squeezed  you  like  a  lemon;  now  I've  finished 
with  you." 

For  a  long  time  Franques  said  nothing.  His 
dream  of  power,  through  this  man  at  least,  was 
shattered ;  argument  was  useless — he  knew  that 
too.  Suddenly  he  looked  very  old,  very  weak, 
very  feeble.  He  picked  up  his  dusty-looking 
hat  and  twisted  it  idly  in  his  hands. 

"There  is  honor  even  among  thieves,"  he  re 
minded  Jim  Warren. 

"I  am  not  a  thief;  therefore  I  don't  have  to 
be  honest  with  thieves,"  Jim  Warren  replied. 
"It  would  be  a  waste  of  time  to  attempt  to 
make  you  understand  some  of  the  subtler  rea 
sons  that  have  inspired  my  conduct;  therefore 
— this  is  all.  I  am  an  ingrate;  yes.  I  have 
nothing  further  to  say." 

Franques  arose  and  wandered  aimlessly  to 
ward  the  door.  In  that  moment,  as  he  stood 
125 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

regarding  this  lank,  shabby,  broken  old  man, 
Jim  Warren  was  sorry  for  him.  He  had  ex 
pected  a  row — he  had  found  only  a  resignation 
that  was  almost  pitiful.  Crooked  or  not,  he 
hadn't  given  the  old  man  a  square  deal.  He 
was  about  to  say  so  ...  the  door  opened 
and  Franques  was  gone. 

So,  at  last,  Jim  Warren  came  to  be  free.  He 
had  played  the  first  hand  and  won ;  he  had  paid 
his  last  debt  as  he  had  reckoned  he  would  pay 
it.  Clear  of  that  burden,  absolutely  alone  and 
independent,  owing  no  man  any  favor,  he 
riffled  the  cards  for  the  second  hand.  Now  the 
big  idea  was  to  be  put  to  the  test! 


126 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE    WONDER    GIRL 

D  WIGHT  TILLINGHAST'S  invitation 
had  specified  the  time  and  the  place ;  and 
there  Jim  Warren  found — the  girl!  Clad  in 
some  soft  clinging  stuff  that  bared  the  ivory 
of  her  throat,  she  stood  beside  her  father,  more 
distractingly  pretty  than  ever.  Her  eyes  met 
Jim  Warren's  demurely,  then  crinkled  into  a 
smile.  For  a  moment  Jim  Warren  merely 
stared  at  her  in  his  astonishment. 

"My  daughter,  Edna,  Mr.  Warren,"  Til- 
linghast  was  saying  in  that  fat,  pompous  way 
of  his.  "Mr.  Warren,  my  dear,  has  become 
one  of  the  big  young  men  of  our  state." 

"I  know  Mr.  Warren  by  his  newspaper  pic 
tures,"  Edna  said  graciously,  and  the  color 
127 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

started  in  her  cheeks  under  the  spell  of  his  gaze. 
"I  think,  too,  I've  seen  him  once— one  day  in 
the  Sandringham  National  Bank?" 

"And  once  after  that!" 

The  girl  reproved  him  with  a  glance  sud 
denly  grown  cool  and  extended  her  hand.  He 
gulped  and  accepted  it  impetuously.  There  fol 
lowed  some  platitudes;  then,  in  a  sort  of  daze 
he  permitted  himself  to  be  led  into  the  drawing- 
room.  This  girl  the  daughter  of  Dwight  Til- 
linghast!  Well!  Well,  well,  well!  He 
couldn't  get  over  that  first  shock.  And  her 
name  was  Edna! 

"You  remember  I  said  I'd  see  you  again  if 
you  beat  Mr.  Lewis?"  the  girl  queried. 

"I  remember,"  he  said  slowly,  meaningly; 
"and  that  isn't  all  you  said." 

"No?"    She  sat  down. 

"You  said  you  wouldn't  like  me." 

"You  didn't  beat  him,  did  you?" 

"Beat  him?"   Jim  Warren  grinned.    "They 
had  to  pick  him  up  in  a  basket." 
128 


THE    WONDER   GIRL 

"I  beg  your  pardon.  You  didn't  beat  him. 
He  withdrew  in  your  favor — didn't  he  ?" 

Then,  and  not  before,  Jim  Warren  realized 
that  he  was  treading  upon  dangerous  ground. 
Of  course  she  would  know  Lewis  and  be 
friendly  with  him,  because  of  the  close  relations 
of  Lewis  and  her  father. 

"Mr.  Lewis  speaks  very  kindly  of  you,"  the 
girl  went  on  pointedly.  "I've  heard  him  discuss 
you  with  my  father  often  since  your  election. 
You  know  Mr.  Lewis,  of  course?" 

"Yes,  I've  met  him — once!"  He  was  try 
ing  to  fathom  the  singular  light  in  her  eyes. 
"Only  once,"  he  added  absently. 

"And  you  were  political  enemies  at  that 
time?"  Edna  laughed  lightly.  "Political  ene 
mies!  It  sounds  so  horrid  and  amounts  to  so 
little.  I  can't  imagine  any  one  being  an  enemy 
of  Mr.  Lewis." 

"No?"  Jim  Warren  was  quite  polite  about 
it. 

"Then,  afterward,  Mr.  Lewis  came  to  see 
129 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

you  were  such  a  wonderful  young  man — oh, 
really  wonderful! — and  retired  in  your  favor 
—didn't  he?" 

"Something  of  that  sort,"  Jim  Warren 
agreed.  What  was  she  driving  at?  Was  she 
trying  to  bait  him?  There  was  a  defensive 
note  in  her  voice. 

"I  should  think  that  would  have  made  close 
friends  of  you  and  Mr.  Lewis." 

"What?" 

"His  withdrawal  in  your  favor." 

"Why?" 

Little  puckers  appeared  in  the  girl's  smooth, 
white  brow.  She  didn't  understand  the  mono 
syllabic  questions. 

"It  was  the  magnanimous  thing  to  do — 
wasn't  it  ?"  she  queried.  "It  put  you  under  obli 
gations  to  him.  So,  naturally,  you  must  be 
grateful  for  his  assistance?" 

For  an  instant  Jim  Warren's  face  was  grave ; 
then  he  grinned. 

"I  can't  imagine  you  being  so  wise  politi- 
130 


THE    WONDER   GIRL 

cally,"  he  remarked  banteringly.  "You  are  in 
terested  in  the  game,  then  ?" 

"The  game?"  Edna's  eyes  sparkled.  "The 
very  words  to  express  it.  That's  what  it  is — 
isn't  it?  A  big,  brilliant,  wonderful  game? 
And  naturally  I  am  interested  because  my — • 
my  father  is.  He  has  ambitions." 

Jim  Warren  had  only  known  two  wom 
en  in  all  his  life.  One  of  them  had  been 
his  mother.  This  girl  was  a  revelation ;  a  figure 
in  a  world  he  had  never  known.  His  interest 
in  her  was  intense;  yet,  oddly  enough,  every 
thing  she  had  said  had  grated  on  him.  Per 
haps  it  was  because  there  was  an  implied 
knowledge  of  things  of  which  he  thought 
women  knew  nothing ;  or,  perhaps,  because  she 
had  fashioned  Lewis  into  a  tin  god  of  her  own 
imagining!  Vaguely  he  found  himself  won 
dering  if  she  knew  what  Lewis  really  was?  Of 
course  she  must  know.  The  newspapers  had 
been  full  of  it  and — hang  it ! — she  could  read. 

He  shook  off  a  sudden  silence. 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

"Did  you  get  home  all  right  that  day?"  he 
queried  irrelevantly. 

"Oh,  yes;  thanks  to  you."  She  was  smiling 
again  now;  an  elusive  dimple  played  about  a 
corner  of  her  mouth.  Strange  he  had  never 
noticed  it  before ! 

"Had  any  more  trouble  with  the  new  car?" 

"No,  not  a  mite.  I  think  there  must  have 
been  a  flaw  in  the  steel  pin  and —  Do  you 
know  anything  about  steel?" 

"Something;  yes." 

Francis  Everard  Lewis,  immaculate  in  even 
ing  dress,  appeared  in  the  doorway. 

"Ah,  Edna!"  and  he  came  toward  her 
eagerly.  She  turned  and  extended  both  hands. 
"Shall  I  have  to  say  it  all  over  again?" 

"Say — what?"  she  asked. 

"How  charming  you  look  and — the  rest  of 
it?" 

Edna  flushed  and  her  eyes  dropped. 

"I  believe  you  have  met  Mr.  Warren,  Mr. 
Lewis?" 

132 


THE    WONDER    GIRL 

Jim  Warren  had  risen.  He  hadn't  seen 
Lewis  since  their  fateful  interview  that  day  in 
his  private  office  and  he  was  not  certain  ex 
actly  what  was  going  to  happen  now.  However, 
he  had  a  good,  husky  punch  up  his  sleeve  if 
the  worst  came  to  the  worst;  and,  besides,  he 
was  hardly  thinking  of  that.  He  was  thinking 
that  not  only  did  Edna  know  Lewis,  but  evi 
dently  she  knew  him  well — well  enough  for 
him  to  address  her  by  her  first  name;  well 
enough  to  offer  him  both  her  hands;  well 
enough  to  blush  at  his  compliment.  His  doubt 
as  to  Lewis'  attitude  was  instantly  dispelled. 

"Of  course  I  know  Warren,"  Lewis  ex 
claimed  heartily.  He  offered  his  hand;  Jim 
Warren  shook  it.  "Let  me  repeat,  Mr.  War 
ren,  the  congratulations  I  wired  to  you  imme 
diately  after  your  election.  I  didn't  believe  the 
man  lived  who  could  have  done  what  you  did." 

"I  know  you  didn't,"  replied  Jim  Warren — 
"that  is,  I  judged  it  from  our  conversation 
that  day." 

133 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

"The  help  I  was  able  to  give  you — " 

"It  was  a  great  help,"  Jim  Warren  inter 
rupted.  "If  you  hadn't  been  in  exactly  the 
position  you  were  I  doubt  if  I  could  have 
won." 

Jim  Warren's  sky-blue  eyes  narrowed  a  lit 
tle,  his  chin  was  thrust  forward  slightly;  but 
that  haunting  grin  still  played  about  his  mouth. 
Lewis  smiled  easily.  Edna's  keen  woman- 
sense  divined  some  undercurrent  that  she  did 
not  quite  understand,  and  she  glanced  from  one 
to  the  other  uncertainly. 

"I'm  glad  to  hear  you  say  that,  Mr.  War 
ren,"  Lewis  went  on  easily.  "I  like  to  feel  that 
you  are  under  an  obligation  to  me.  Some  day 
I  may  call  upon  you  to  remember  it." 

That  was  all — merely  a  pleasant  little  clash 
ing  of  verbal  rapiers.  Lewis  ran  on  lightly, 
talking  of  other  things,  while  Jim  Warren  per 
mitted  himself  to  grow  disturbed  at  the  calm 
air  of  proprietorship  that  he  displayed  toward 
Edna.  There  was  something  in  her  attitude 
134 


THE    WONDER    GIRL 

toward  him,  too — something  that  smacked  of 
deep  admiration  for  this  man,  and  more. 

Other  people  came  in,  four  or  five  of  them. 
Lewis  sauntered  over  toward  a  group  of  men; 
Jim  Warren  turned  to  Edna. 

"You  are  interested  in  politics,  you  say?" 

"I  am,  yes," — curiously. 

"You  read  the  newspapers,  of  course?" 

Edna's  rosebud  lips  were  thrust  forward 
tantalizingly. 

"Sometimes;  not  often,"  she  answered.  "I 
used  to  read  them  a  great  deal  where  there  were 
things  concerning  my  father,  or — some 
friend." 

Jim  Warren  hesitated  and  his  face  grew 
grave  as  he  framed  the  next  question. 

"You  must  have  read  something  of  my  fight 
down  in  Warburton,  then?"  he  asked.  "Par 
don  me,  I  don't  want  to  appear  egotistical — 
but  you  read  something  of  it?" 

"I  didn't  read  all  of  it,  because — "  She 
stopped. 

135 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

"Because—" 

"Because  I  don't  like  personalities."  Her 
eyes  met  his  steadily.  "The  time  never  comes 
when  it  is  necessary  to  attack  an  individual  for 
no  other  reason  except  that  one  wants  his  po 
litical  head." 

Jim  Warren  stared  at  her  dully.  Then  she 
did  know  who  and  what  Lewis  was !  She  must 
know ! 

"  'Revile'  was  the  word  you  used  in  your 
note  to  me,"  he  reminded  her  accusingly. 

Edna's  brows  were  lifted  scornfully;  there 
was  a  set  defiance  about  the  rosebud  mouth. 

"In  my  note  to  you?"  she  inquired  coldly. 
"What  note,  pray?" 

"It  came  too  late,  anyway,"  Jim  Warren  ex 
plained  evenly.  "Lewis  had  already  quit." 

There  were  strange  lapses  in  Jim  Warren's 
recollections  of  what  happened  after  that. 
Edna  and  Lewis  sat  side  by  side,  he  knew,  and 
seemed  to  be  absorbed  in  each  other ;  and  every 
one  else  talked  politics,  and  he  was  not  inter- 
136 


THE    WONDER    GIRL 

ested.  After  dinner  he  joined  a  party  of  men> 
in  the  smoking-room  and  they  talked  politics 
again.  It  was  there  that  Jim  Warren  met  for 
the  first  time  a  sleek,  round  person  named 
Tyson — a  duplicate  copy  of  Tillinghast 
trimmed  down. 

One  glaring  thing  he  did  remember;  he 
couldn't  have  forgotten  if  he  would.  It  seared 
its  imprint  upon  his  brain ;  and  as  he  wandered 
on  through  the  cool  streets  toward  his  hotel  he 
seemed  to  be  suffocating. 

"If  I  am  elected  governor  for  the  next 
term — "  Tillinghast  had  started  to  say. 

"When  you  are  elected  governor,  you  mean," 
Lewis  had  corrected  banteringly.  "We've  got 
to  elect  you  governor,  because  Edna  says  our 
wedding  must  have  the  governor's  uniformed 
staff  as  a  background.  It's  up  to  me  to  elect 
you." 

Jim  Warren  remembered  that,  all  right. 


137 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE    PEACE    CONFERENCE 

MORE  than  usual  interest  attached  to  Jim 
Warren's  initial  appearance  as  a  mem 
ber  of  that  august  body  that  made  the  laws  of 
his  state.  In  the  first  place,  he,  an  unknown 
maker  of  plows,  had  whaled  the  life  out  of 
Lewis,  who  had  been  looked  upon  as  invincible ; 
in  the  second  place,  despite  the  fact  that  he  had 
accepted  the  support  of  Lewis'  machine,  it  was 
generally  understood  that  he  was  an  independ 
ent — possibly  the  only  one  in  the  legislature ;  in 
the  third  place,  there  are  always  dormant  pos 
sibilities  in  a  red-headed  young  man  who  had 
done  the  impossible  thing.  Besides,  he  was  a 
representative  of  labor  and  there  was  a  very 
wide  and  growing  belief  that  he  was  incor 
ruptible.  Still,  the  newspaper  men  had  found 
138 


THE    PEACE   CONFERENCE 

him  friendly ;  terse  and  to  the  point ;  while  the 
cartoonists  reveled  in  the  luxury  of  his  freckles 
and  that  haunting  grin  of  his. 

Jim  Warren's  first  sight  of  the  legislative 
chamber  on  that  first  day  of  its  convening  was 
one  he  never  forgot — a  vast  hall,  gay  with 
flowers  and  flags  and  bunting,  packed  with 
humanity  from  the  speaker's  desk,  almost  hid 
den  behind  a  pyramid  of  blooms,  to  the  long 
gallery  that  ran  around  three  sides  of  the  room. 
Seemingly  this  gallery  was  given  over  to 
women — wives,  daughters  and  sweethearts  of 
these  men  on  the  floor  below.  A  glow  of  pride 
enveloped  him  when  he  realized  that  he,  Jim 
Warren,  was  a  part  of  that  splendid  picture.  If 
only  the  little  mother  had  lived !  As  it  was,  no 
woman  in  all  that  mass  of  fluttering  ribbons 
and  plumes  and  handkerchiefs  had  a  word  or 
thought  for  him ;  none  knew  him,  unless —  She 
would  be  there,  of  course!  He  turned  and 
studied  the  gallery  deliberately.  He  didn't  see 
her. 

139 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

From  the  moment  of  his  entrance  Jim  War 
ren  was  made  to  feel  his  importance,  for  he 
had  instantly  been  surrounded  by  a  besieging 
body  of  alert- faced  young  men — newspaper  re 
porters.  He  was  the  chap  who  put  it  all  over 
Lewis,  and  they  didn't  permit  him  to  forget  it. 
Now  that  he  was  here  on  the  job,  what  was  he 
going  to  do  ?  He  had  accepted  Lewis'  support ; 
did  that  mean  that  he  would  vote  with  Lewis' 
party?  Did  he  understand  that  as  an  inde 
pendent  he  would  have  absolutely  no  power 
otherwise  ?  Did  he  have  the  universal  panacea 
for  all  labor  troubles  concealed  anywhere  about 
his  person  ?  Now,  confidentially,  what  was  the 
real  inside  history  of  that  flop  of  Lewis'  after 
the  phonograph  episode?  He  wasn't  married, 
of  course?  How  old  was  he?  And  a  few 
thousand  other  questions. 

A  large  man,  with  a  large  stick,  finally  took 
Jim  Warren  away  from  the  reporters  and  led 
him  to  a  desk  in  a  remote  corner  of  the  cham 
ber — a  desk  that  was  almost  hidden  beneath  an 
140 


THE    PEACE   CONFERENCE 

enormous  mound  of  flowers.  Jim  Warren 
stared.  He  unsteadily  turned  over  the  card  on 
the  flowers  and  there  was  an  absurd  tightening 
of  his  throat  as  he  read  it : 

"From  Old  Bob  and  the  Boys!" 

"God  bless  'em!"  murmured  Jim  Warren 
softly. 

There  was  another  bunch  of  flowers,  too — 
a  small,  tissue-wrapped  cluster  of  violets,  cool, 
damp,  fragrant.  There  was  no  card.  Jim 
Warren's  eyes  opened  in  wonder;  then  he 
turned  slowly  and  for  the  second  time  studied 
the  mass  of  color  in  the  gallery.  No ;  he  didn't 
see  her.  It  was  foolish,  of  course,  that  he 
should  imagine  such  a  thing;  but  if  not  she, 
then  who? 

There  came  the  call  to  order,  the  tedious 
work  of  organization,  the  partial  announce 
ment  of  committees  and  all  the  other  routine. 
Late  in  the  afternoon  of  a  weary  day,  Lewis, 
with  the  freedom  of  a  quondam  member,  ap 
peared  beside  his  desk.  Apparently  he  had 
141 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

forgotten  all  those  things  that  had  gone  before. 
He  brought  a  smile  and  a  pleasant  word. 

"How  do  you  like  it  as  far  as  you've  gone?" 

"I  can  answer  that  better  in  a  month  from 
now,"  Jim  Warren  grinned. 

"It's  not  a  very  good  seat  you  have  here," 
Lewis  remarked  carelessly.  "I  don't  suppose 
you  would  object  to  a  better  one  if  I  could  ar 
range  it?" 

"Go  ahead,"  said  Jim  Warren. 

"And  how  about  committees?  What  have 
you  drawn  so  far?" 

"Church  and  Parish  Affairs."  Again  Jim 
Warren  grinned.  "I  can't  see  myself  setting 
the  state  on  fire  as  long  as  they  hold  me  to 
that." 

"Some  of  the  committees  haven't  been  com 
pleted,"  Lewis  remarked  musingly.  "I  don't 
suppose  you'd  object  if  I  said  a  word  for  you 
in  that  direction?  I  happen  to  be  pretty  close 
to  Tillinghast." 

"Go  as  far  as  you  like." 
142 


THE    PEACE   CONFERENCE 

Lewis  strolled  away  and  Jim  Warren,  watch 
ing  him  with  narrowed  eyes,  fell  to  wondering. 
What  was  Lewis  looking  for  ?  Another  bump  ? 
From  Lewis  his  thoughts  traveled  on  to  a  dis- 
tractingly  pretty  girl ;  and  she  reminded  him  of 
violets.  He  picked  up  the  dewy  blossoms  and 
inhaled  them  deeply. 

A  legislature  is  like  a  setting  hen — it  takes  it 
a  week  or  more  to  get  down  to  business.  Jim 
Warren  spent  that  week  in  observation ;  and  the 
longer  he  looked  the  more  he  was  impressed 
with  the  bigness  of  this  particular  bit  of  state 
machinery.  He  was  in  the  kindergarten;  he 
didn't  know  his  A-B-abs.  Slowly,  too,  he  came 
to  see  the  tremendous  power  of  the  speaker; 
and,  seeing  that,  he  knew  that  Lewis,  despite 
the  fact  that  he  was  no  longer  a  member,  had 
greater  influence  than  he  had  ever  had  before. 
He  owned  Tillinghast,  body  and  soul.  He  was 
out  to  make  him  governor  and  Tillinghast  was 
paying  for  that  job  in  advance  as  far  as  he  was 
able  to. 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

Francis  Everard  Lewis  stepped  out  of  his 
•automobile  one  night  in  front  of  a  dingy  lodg 
ing  house  in  a  dingy  side  street  and  rang  the 
bell.  A  disheveled  maid-servant  answered. 

"Does  Mr.  Warren  live  here?"  Lewis  in 
quired — "Mr.  James  Palmer  Warren?" 

"Third  floor  front,"  barked  the  girl. 

"May  I  see  him,  please?" 

"Sure.  Right  up  them  steps — two  flights — 
front  room." 

The  girl  vanished  in  the  gloom  of  the  hall 
and  Lewis  climbed  the  stairs.  A  deuce  of  a 
place  to  live,  this!  Phew!  Onions!  Lewis' 
delicate  nostrils  twitched ;  his  lips  curled  down 
ward. 

He  paused  before  a  door  and  rapped. 

"Come  in,"  called  Jim  Warren. 

Lewis  entered.  Jim  Warren,  sans  collar, 
sans  coat,  with  his  sleeves  rolled  up,  had  risen 
and  was  standing  near  a  table,  where  evidently 
he  had  been  writing.  At  sight  of  Lewis  his 
face  flushed  a  little,  his  lean  jaw  was  thrust 
144 


THE    PEACE   CONFERENCE 

forward,  his  blue  eyes  glittered.  Instantly  it 
passed — that  inextinguishable  grin  returned  to 
his  lips. 

"Hello!"  he  greeted. 

"Good  evening,"  said  Lewis  cordially.  He 
offered  an  ever-ready  hand,  feeling  vaguely 
that  here,  away  from  the  eyes  of  the  world, 
Jim  Warren  would  refuse  it — but  Jim  Warren 
didn't. 

"Sit  down?"  he  invited,  instead. 

"I  can  only  stay  a  few  minutes,"  Lewis  re 
marked.  "By  the  way,  do  you  find  your  new 
seat  in  the  chamber  an  improvement  on  the 
other  one  ?" 

"Yes,  thanks." 

"That's  good."  Lewis  lighted  a  proffered 
cigar  and  settled  back  in  his  chair  languidly. 
"Warren,  I'm  up  here  under  a  flag  of  truce." 
He  paused  and  smiled.  "You  don't  happen  to 
have  a  loaded  phonograph  about?" 

"Not  this  time."  Jim  Warren  grinned. 

"Under  a  flag  of  truce,"  Lewis  continued 
MS 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

listlessly.  "I  want  to  make  friends  with  you. 
It's  probable  that  you  and  I  will  see  a  good 
deal  of  each  other  during  the  present  session 
and  it  seems  absurd  that  we  should  be  always 
snapping  and  snarling  at  each  other." 

"It  does,"  Jim  Warren  agreed  readily. 

"You  beat  me — you  made  me  quit,"  Lewis 
ceded  magnanimously.  "I  haven't  a  word  of 
criticism  of  the  methods  you  employed,  unusual 
as  they  were.  We'll  say  no  more  about  that 
part.  I  can  do  you  good  up  here  and  you  can 
do  me  good.  You  could  sit  in  that  legislative 
chamber  for  forty  years  and  never  get  any 
where,  for  the  simple  reason  that  you're  inex 
perienced  and  you  are  not  with  either  of  the  big 
parties.  If  you  wanted  to  do  anything  for  your 
constituents,  you  couldn't  do  it  without  the  aid 
of  one  of  those  parties — to  be  more  explicit, 
without  the  aid  of  my  party.  You  are  begin 
ning  to  see  that?" 

"I  am,"— readily. 

"Well,  what's  the  use?" 
146 


THE    PEACE   CONFERENCE 

"None  at  all."  There  was  a  short  silence.  "I 
don't  feel  that  I  owe  you  any  apologies,  Lewis, 
for  our  fight  was  all  in  the  game.  There's  no 
reason  why  we  shouldn't  forget  all  about  it. 
Frankly,  after  all  that  large  time  I  had  getting 
up  here,  I've  got  to  do  something  for  War- 
burton,  and  I  can't  do  it  alone."  He  was 
thoughtful  for  a  time.  "As  I  look  back  on  it 
now  I  find  that  my  campaign  was  destructive 
rather  than  constructive." 

"It  was,"— heartily. 

"Now  that  I'm  here,  I've  got  to  deliver  the 
goods." 

"You've  the  right  idea,  Warren."  Lewis 
was  fairly  beaming.  It  had  been  perfectly  sim 
ple  after  all.  He  studied  the  guileless  inno 
cence  of  this  freckled  face  with  a  new  interest 
and  decided  that,  properly  handled,  Jim  War 
ren  was  a  mere  child,  plastic  and  tractable. 
Having  reached  this  conclusion,  he  was  off  on 
another  tack :  "You  remember  I  spoke  to  you  a 
short  time  ago  about  your  committees  ?" 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

Jim  Warren  nodded. 

"There  are  two  or  three  places  still  open — 
particularly  one  in  the  Committee  on  Public 
Structures."  Lewis  was  studying  Jim  War 
ren's  face  keenly.  "It's  an  important  commit 
tee,  as  you  know.  Tillinghast  has  been  con 
sidering  you  for  the  place,  because  he  knows 
you  to  be  a  practical  man." 

Jim  Warren's  sky-blue  eyes  gleamed  with 
gratification. 

"I  came  up  partly  to  tell  you  this  and  to  sug 
gest  that  if  you  get  an  invitation  to  Tilling- 
hast's  place  for  a  week-end  it  would  be  to  your 
advantage  to  accept  it.  Is  it  necessary  to  say 
more  ?" 

Jim  Warren  rose  and  smashed  one  clenched 
fist  into  the  palm  of  his  hand.  If  he,  a  first- 
year  man,  could  only  get  on  one  of  the  big  com 
mittees!  He  had  not  dared  to  hope  for  so 
much;  and  yet — in  those  committees  was 
the  power. 

"I  understand,"  he  said.  "What  am  I  to  do 
148 


THE    PEACE   CONFERENCE 

for  this  ?"  He  was  searching  Lewis'  bland  face. 
"How  do  I  pay  for  it?" 

"Pay  for  it?"  Lewis  repeated  as  if  aston 
ished.  "You  know,  you've  got  a  totally  wrong 
idea  of  what  the  legislature  is,"  he  went  on. 
"There  are  things  to  be  done  and  some  one 
must  do  them.  Occasionally  we'll  admit  there 
is  something  questionable,  but  everybody  in 
the  legislature  isn't  crooked.  You'll  have  to  get 
that  idea  out  of  your  head." 

Jim  Warren  took  it  at  its  face  value. 

"I'll  go,"  he  said. 

"Do,"  said  Lewis.  "You'll  be  back  Sunday 
evening,  I  dare  say?  I  may  run  by  and  see 
you  for  a  moment,  to  see  how  it  came  out."  He 
rose  and  drew  on  his  gray  suede  gloves.  "I 
had  a  deuce  of  a  time  finding  your  place  here," 
he  remarked  carelessly.  "You'll  pardon  me,  I 
know;  but  you  are  abominably  situated  for  a 
man  of  your  position.  If  Warburton  should 
send  a  delegation  up  here  to  see  you  you'd — " 
He  stopped. 

149 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

"I'm  poor,  Lewis,"  Jim  Warren  explained 
simply.  "I  gave  up  two  thousand  a  year  to 
take  eight  hundred.  I  can't  afford  better  than 
this." 

Lewis  poked  at  a  design  on  the  skimpy  car 
pet  with  a  patent-leather  toe.  He  seemed  on 
the  point  of  saying  something  more,  but  ap 
parently  changed  his  mind.  After  a  little  he 
went  out. 


150 


CHAPTER  XVI 

THE   RECOGNITION 

WOMAN,"  says  the  dictionary,  "is  an 
adult  human  female."  What  a  libel 
it  is,  to  be  sure !  We  know  it's  a  libel — you  and 
I  and  Jim  Warren — we  who  have  fallen  under 
the  subtle  spell  of  woman's  witchery;  we  who 
have  basked  in  the  lure  of  her  haunting  smile ; 
we  who  have  gazed  upon  the  glory  of  her 
gold-burned  hair;  we  who  have  been  stricken 
sheer  dumb  by  the  mystery  and  coquetry  of  her 
eyes;  we  who  have  dreamed  rose-dreams  and 
eaten  to  repletion  of  the  lotus — we  know  that's 
all  hocus-pocus.  "An  adult  human  female!" 
Forsooth!  So  is  the  moon  a  piece  of  green 
cheese  and  the  sun  a  pennyworth  of  sulphur 
matches — and  the  star-pierced  sky  a  tin-dipper 
turned  topsy-turvy  over  all. 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

Jim  Warren  meditated  gently  upon  these 
things  at  the  end  of  his  day  of  awakening.  He 
had  expected  a  sordid  day,  a  day  of  political 
trafficking.  Instead,  it  had  been  a  day  filled 
to  bursting  with  the  charm  of  Her;  a  day  of 
sensuous  delight  to  be  viewed  through  half- 
veiled  eyes;  a  day  of  gay  chatter  and  lazy 
content,  unmarred  by  one  thought  beyond  the 
fleeting  present.  Somewhere  out  in  the  mer 
cenary  world  men  toiled  and  haggled  and  died 
and  were  born  again;  somewhere  out  there 
great  games  were  being  played  for  great 
stakes;  but  here  was  he  in  this  big,  rambling 
country  house,  perched  on  a  crag  overlooking 
the  thunderous  sea.  Everything  else  was  very 
far  away,  indistinct,  immaterial — for  She  was 
here.  For  that  one  day  he  chose  not  to  remem 
ber  that  he  was  a  maker  of  plows  and  she  one 
of  a  class  apart,  a  daughter  of  millions,  in 
trenched  behind  those  barriers  that  convention 
says  must  not  be  broken  down  by  the  man  who 
works  with  his  hands.  She  belonged  to  Lewis, 
152 


THE    RECOGNITION 

yes;  but  he  didn't  permit  that  thought  to  dis 
turb  the  serenity  of  that  wonderful  day. 

They  had  breakfasted  alone,  Edna  and  Jim 
Warren.  She  had  come  to  him  there  in  the 
sun-drenched  breakfast-room  rosy  as  the  dawn, 
vibrant  with  life,  a  smile  in  her  eyes. 

"Isn't  it  a  glorious  view?"  She  swept  a 
hand  toward  the  windows.  Far  below,  the  surf 
crashed  against  the  jagged  breast  of  the  rocks ; 
on  the  horizon  white  sails  fluttered  in  the  bril 
liant  January  sunshine.  "Father  and  I  come 
here  every  week-end,  rain  or  shine,  snow  or 
sleet.  This  is  our  part  of  the  week.  I  get  very 
tired  of  the  city,  but  here — I  love  this  place." 
She  extended  her  arms  in  a  gesture,  all-envel 
oping.  "In  summer,  of  course,  we  live  here." 

"I  can  imagine  you  would  love  it,"  said  Jim 
Warren. 

She  sat  down  and  babbled  of  many  things — 
of  flower  gardens  she  planned ;  of  curling,  pur 
ple  waters  on  the  beach ;  of  gaunt  gray  stones 
in  the  hills;  of  birds  and  trailing  vines  and 
153 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

pictures  and  music — and  automobiles.  He  said 
little.  He  was  content  to  listen  to  the  rhythm  of 
her  voice,  to  watch  the  play  of  expression  on 
her  face,  to  study  the  color  of  her  eyes.  He 
wondered  what  color  they  were.  They  seemed 
all  colors,  yet  none. 

After  breakfast  he  had  smoked  a  while,  then 
wandered  idly  about  the  house.  Every  nook 
and  corner  of  it  reflected  the  magic  of  her 
touch.  He  found  it  in  the  sturdy  comfort  of 
the  great  living-room,  in  the  daintiness  of  the 
sun-bathed  conservatory,  in  the  simplicity  of 
the  music-room.  The  town  house  was  merely 
a  show  place  for  furniture  and  art,  and  rare 
and  curious  trifles;  here  was  a  home.  There 
was  a  cheerful  litter  of  books  and  ribbons  and 
feminine  knickknacks;  and  on  a  spindle-legged 
work-table  was  an  embroidery  ring  with  a  half- 
worked  flower  in  the  center.  Jim  Warren  ven 
tured  to  pick  it  up  and  look  at  it.  He  didn't  re 
member  that  he  had  seen  one  since  his  mother — 

Pending  that  time  when  his  host  should 
154 


THE    RECOGNITION 

choose  to  appear,  Jim  Warren  went  to  his  room 
for  his  heavy  coat,  intending  to  go  for  a  stroll. 
Quite  involuntarily,  as  he  passed  along  the  hall, 
he  glanced  through  a  half -open  door  and  saw — 
a  slipper,  turned  upside  down  on  the  floor.  The 
sight  of  it  startled  him.  He  averted  his  eyes 
quickly  as  though  he  had  gazed  upon  forbidden 
things. 

When  he  came  down-stairs  again  he  heard 
Edna  in  the  music-room.  She  was  playing  very 
softly  and  singing  something — he  didn't  know 
what.  He  peered  in.  She  recognized  his  pres 
ence  by  a  sidelong  glance  and  a  little  smile, 
then  went  on  to  the  end  of  her  song. 

"Isn't  it  charming?"  She  referred  to  the 
song. 

"It  is."  He  referred  to  the  voice. 

"It  should  be  sung  more  brilliantly,  of 
course,"  she  explained,  "but  I  can't  be  brilliant 
when  papa's  asleep."  She  laughed  a  little.  "It 
makes  him  fussy." 

Jim  Warren  didn't  go  for  his  stroll  after  all. 
155 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

He  dropped  the  heavy  coat  across  a  chair  and 
sat  down. 

"Please  go  on,"  he  requested. 

"What  shall  I  sing?  What  is  your  favorite  ?" 

"I  have  no  favorite." 

Wrapped  in  the  ineffable  charm  of  young 
womanhood,  at  times  oblivious  of  his  presence, 
she  sat  at  the  piano  for  a  long  time  playing, 
occasionally  singing,  always  softly.  It  fitted  in 
with  Jim  Warren's  mood.  There  had  been  so 
much  of  clangor  and  tumult  in  his  life!  He 
loved  to  watch  the  coruscations  of  light  in  her 
hair,  the  grace  and  mastery  of  her  touch,  the 
dreaminess  in  her  eyes.  She  seemed  very  far 
away. 

Suddenly  she  whirled  around  on  the  piano 
stool. 

"Do  you  know,  I  can't  get  over  the  impres 
sion  that  you  and  I  met  somewhere  before  that 
day  in  the  bank?"  she  exclaimed  impulsively. 
"I  had  seen  your  picture,  of  course,  but  even 
before  that—" 

156 


THE    RECOGNITION 

"I  had  never  seen  your  picture  and  I  had  the 
same  impression." 

"Odd,  isn't  it?"  There  were  thoughtful  little 
crinkles  about  her  eyes.  "Have  you  lived  long 
in  Warburton?" 

"All  my  life." 

"I  hardly  think  it  could  have  been  there,  be 
cause  I  don't  remember  that  I  was  ever  there 
but  once;  that  was  when  I  was  a  little  girl.  I 
remember  that  very  distinctly."  The  perplexity 
passed  from  her  face ;  she  smiled  at  some  recol 
lection.  "Father  and  I  went  through  an  enor 
mous  factory  or  foundry,  or  something  of  the 
sort,  while  we  were  there.  He  had  gone  out  to 
see  Mr.  Chase,  the  manager,  on  business  and  I 
insisted  on  seeing  the  shops  where  the  men  were 
at  work.  It  was  wonderful !" 

In  that  instant  Jim  Warren  knew  her. 

"The  Atlas  Plow  Works,"  he  said.  "I  am 
or  rather  I  was  until  I  resigned  a  short  while 
ago — superintendent  there." 

"Superintendent?"    she    repeated    thought- 

157 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

fully.  "Perhaps  that's  where  I  saw  you !"  He 
chose  to  remain  silent;  he  wanted  her  to  re 
member  him.  "That  was  nine  or  ten  years  ago ; 
if  you  were  superintendent  then  you  must  hare 
been  a  very  young  superintendent." 

"I  have  been  superintendent  only  for  three 
or  four  years."  He  was  smiling,  waiting. 

After  a  moment  she  shook  her  head. 

"That  was  one  of  the  wonder  days  of  my 
life,"  she  ran  on.  "It  was  all  so  hot  and  noisy 
and  clanky.  It  seemed  incredible  to  me  that 
men  could  work  in  such  a  place.  In  the  foun 
dry,  I  remember,  they  moved  about  in  the 
murk,  like  demons,  I  thought.  There  was  a 
spouting  and  spatter  of  iron  so  hot  that  it  ran 
like  water.  They  took  it  in  ladles  and  poured 
it  into  boxes  full  of  sand." 

"Molds,"  Jim  Warren  told  her. 

"I  could  feel  the  heat  on  my  face  all  the  way 

across  the  room,  yet  they  didn't  seem  to  mind. 

I  am  sure  at  some  time  Dante  must  have  visited 

a  foundry!"   She  was  gazing  at  him  now  with 

158 


THE    RECOGNITION 

those  wonder  eyes  he  remembered  so  well — 
how  had  he  ever  forgotten!  "After  that  we 
went  into  the  hammer  room — trip-hammers, 
don't  they  call  them?- — where  they  were  mak 
ing  plows.  And  there  were  furnaces,  too — 
great  open-mouthed,  greedy-looking  furnaces." 

She  paused.  Jim  Warren's  sky-blue  eyes 
were  fixed  upon  her  face.  Finally  he  took  up 
the  thread  of  the  narrative : 

"And  you  and  your  father  and  Mr.  Chase 
stopped  near  one  of  the  hammers  and  looked  on 
while  the  hammer-man  worked — and  finally 
Mr.  Chase  placed  his  watch  on  the  anvil  and 
the  hammer-man  smashed  the  crystal.  Then 
you  placed  your  watch  on  the  anvil  and  that 
crystal  was  only  cracked !  And  when  you  were 
going  away  you  turned  back  at  the  door  and 
smiled  at  the  hammer-man — didn't  you?" 

Charming  bewilderment  was  depicted  on  her 
face;  she  was  struggling  to  remember.    Her 
hand  involuntarily  touched  the  watch  on  her 
bosom — the  same  watch. 
159 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

"Then — then  you  must  have  been  there?" 

"I  was" — Jim  Warren  was  smiling — "I  was 
the  hammer-man." 

Suddenly  Edna  remembered.  It  was  some 
thing  in  the  whimsical,  sky-blue  eyes  of  him 
that  bridged  the  chasm  of  years.  Sudden 
realization  brought  sudden  confusion.  She 
didn't  seem  able  to  reconcile  things  all  at 
once.  The  hammer-man,  with  arms  bared  to 
the  shoulders,  grimed,  sinewy — was  this  man 
the  same? — this  rather  well-dressed,  clean-cut, 
smiling  individual  opposite  her? 

"It  leaves  me  quite — quite  breathless,"  she 
faltered  at  last,  with  a  queer  little  laugh.  "I 
can  hardly  make  myself  believe  that  we — " 

"I  understand." 

Now  that  she  remembered,  Jim  Warren  won 
dered  if  it  would  make  any  difference.  He 
knew  grimly  that  it  was  not  meet  that  they 
should  fraternize  on  a  common  level.  The  color 
surged  into  her  cheeks.  Why?  He  asked  that 
question  many  times. 

1 60 


CHAPTER  XVII 

JIM    WARREN    WINS   A    POT 

IT  was  on  the  morning  following  that  day  of 
rose-dreams  that  Dwight  Tillinghast  bared 
his  hypocritical  soul  to  Jim  Warren;  and  an 
unsavory  spectacle  it  was.  Psychologically  the 
exhibition  was  interesting,  politically  it  might 
be  useful ;  so,  in  furtherance  of  the  big  idea  and 
despite  an  unholy  inclination  to  take  the  honor 
able  speaker  by  his  august  windpipe  and  throt 
tle  him,  Jim  Warren  listened  attentively.  Smug 
and  lofty  and  unutterably  pompous  Tilling 
hast  was — typical  of  a  class  that,  having  all 
else,  seeks  political  preferment.  With  wealth  at 
his  command,  coupled  with  an  unbounded 
egotism  and  the  support  of  Francis  Everard 
Lewis,  he  couldn't  see  why  he  shouldn't  have 
anything  he  wanted.  In  fact,  he  didn't  mind 
confiding  in  Mr.  Warren  to  the  extent  of  say- 
161 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

ing  he  was  going  to  be  the  next  governor — and, 
by  the  way,  that  was  one  of  the  things  they 
must  discuss.  It  didn't  happen  that  Mr.  War 
ren  was  committed  to  any  other  man  ? 

No ;  Mr.  Warren  was  not. 

"Ah!"  It  was  as  if  a  vast  wind  were  blow 
ing  in  a  cavern,  "Could  I,  in  that  event,  count 
upon  your  support  ?" 

"It  all  depends,"  Jim  Warren  told  him. 

"It  all  depends?"  Tillinghast  echoed. 

"I'd  just  as  soon  see  you  governor  as  any 
man  I  know,  except  myself,"  said  Jim  Warren ; 
"but—" 

"Except  yourself  ?"  Tillinghast  seemed  a  bit 
aghast  at  the  suggestion.  His  fat,  shallow  eyes 
were  reassured  at  the  grin  on  Jim  Warren's 
face.  "Ah!  I  see!  A  joke!  Ha-ha!" 

"Yes,  a  joke— ha-ha!" 

"Very   good."    Tillinghast  paused  ponder 
ously  ere  he  voiced  the  next  question.    "You — 
er — and  Mr.  Lewis  had  some  sort  of  an  inter 
view  the  other  night,  I  believe  ?" 
162 


JIM    WARREN    WINS    A    POT 

Jim  Warren  nodded. 

"I'm  glad  to  see  that  you  are  friends  again." 
Tillinghast  rubbed  his  pudgy  hands  together. 
"•Possibly  something  was  said  about  a — a  va 
cant  place  in  the  Committee  on  Public  Struc 
tures?" 

"I  believe  the  matter  was  mentioned,  yes." 

"Well — er — that  vacant  place — er — " 

"I  think,  perhaps,  I  can  say  what  you  want 
to  say,  Mr.  Tillinghast.  You'll  give  me  the 
vacant  place  on  that  committee  if  I  support  you 
in  your  fight  for  governor — is  that  it?" 

Tillinghast  seemed  astonished  at  the  ease  and 
directness  with  which  the  proposition  had  been 
put. 

"Precisely."   He  beamed. 

"And,  if  we  agree  on  terms,  then  what?" 
Jim  Warren  wanted  to  know. 

The  honorable  speaker  rose  and  wandered 

aimlessly  about  the  library  for  a  time,  pausing 

now  and  then  to  shoot  a  curious  glance  at  Jim 

Warren.   This  red-headed  man  made  him  feel 

163 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

uncomfortable;  there  was  a  direct,  cold 
blooded  manner  about  him  that  he  didn't  alto 
gether  like.  Jim  Warren  sat  gazing  at  the  floor, 
smoking  placidly. 

"I've  made  no  secret  among  my  friends  of 
my  candidacy  for  governor,  Mr.  Warren,"  he 
said  at  last.  "Now  I  have  no  fears  for  Mr. 
Lewis'  end  of  the  state — your  end — but  I  am 
a  little  afraid  of  the  upper  end  of  the  state. 
Mr.  Lewis  and  I  have  agreed  upon  a  plan  that 
will  insure  all  the  state  to  me.  The  fight  will 
have  to  be  made  in  the  Committee  on  Public 
Structures." 

"Yes?"  Jim  Warren  lifted  his  gaze  inquir 
ingly. 

"Mr.  Lewis  and  I  think — in  fact,  we  know," 
he  amended — "that  the  way  to  pull  the  upper 
part  of  the  state  solidly  is  to  give  those  people 
up  there  what  they  want.  Now  there  has  been 
some  clamor  up  there  for  recreation  piers,  a 
new  state  school  and  libraries,  and  what-not. 
The  present  governor  is  opposed  to  the  expen- 
164 


JIM    WARREN    WINS    A   POT 

diture  of  the  money  necessary  for  all  these 
things;  and — " 

"It  would  run  into  millions — wouldn't  it?" 
asked  Jim  Warren. 

"It  would,  yes,"  Tillinghast  agreed  compla 
cently.  "If  bills  should  be  introduced  to  this 
end — that  is,  giving  them  all  they  want  and 
more — and  I,  as  speaker,  stood  back  of  them 
and  made  a  fight  for  them — do  you  see  I  would 
become  their  champion?  I  would  be  the  man 
they  want.  I  would — " 

"And  it  would  only  cost  the  state  a  few  mil 
lion  dollars?"  Jim  Warren  put  in.  He  glanced 
up  quite  casually  into  Tillinghast's  fat  face. 
"In  other  words,  the  state  would  pay  for  the 
privilege  of  electing  you  governor?" 

Tillinghast  didn't  like  the  way  he  put  it. 
What  a  coarse,  tactless  person,  to  be  sure ! 

"You  don't  understand,  Mr.  Warren,"  he 

went  on  to  explain.  "If  any  bill  was  passed  the 

governor  would  veto  it ;  and,  in  the  first  place, 

it  couldn't  be  passed.    Certainly  we  couldn't 

165 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

pass  it  over  the  governor's  veto,  but  the  moral 
effect  would  be  the  same." 

Slowly  it  dawned  upon  Jim  Warren. 

"Oh!"  he  said.  "It's  only  a  grand-stand 
play." 

Tillinghast  grunted.  Why  did  this  man  in 
sist  on  calling  everything  by  its  first  name  ? 

"As  a  matter  of  fact,  I  don't  care  a  hang 
whether  those  people  up  there  get  their  recrea 
tion  piers  and  schools  and  libraries  or  not,"  the 
speaker  went  on ;  "but  the  bill  would  precipitate 
a  big  fight  and,  whatever  else  came  of  it,  it 
would  strengthen  me  in  that  end  of  the  state." 

"And  why,"  asked  the  maker  of  plows  qui 
etly — "why  does  Lewis  choose  me  for  this 
committee  ?" 

"Because  you  are  a  fighter,  Mr.  Warren." 
The  speaker  laid  a  pudgy  hand  on  his  shoulder 
and  beamed  upon  him  fatly.  "Because  you 
have  suddenly  become  one  of  the  influential 
men  of  the  state.  With  you  on  my  side — don't 
you  see  the  possibilities?" 
166 


JIM    WARREN    WINS   A    POT 

The  man's  hand  was  hot  and  moist  on  his 
shoulder;  Jim  Warren  wriggled  out  from  un 
der  it  and  went  to  the  window.  His  sinewy 
fingers  were  clenched. 

"You  are  planning  to  hand  them  a  gold  brick 
up  there  and  I  am  to  be  the  middleman?"  he 
asked  slowly. 

"Not  at  all !" — suavely.  "I'm  going  to  try  to 
give  them  something  they  want.  If  I  don't  suc 
ceed  it  isn't  my  fault.  You  are  the  man  to  make 
the  fight.  I  think  so  well  of  you — Lewis  and  I 
both  think  so  well  of  you — that  not  only  are 
we — am  I — willing  to  make  you  a  member  of 
that  committee  but  we'd  be  glad  to  make  you 
chairman." 

Chairman!  The  word  sent  a  thrill  through 
the  sturdy  figure  of  Jim  Warren.  Chairman! 
The  big  idea  was  coming  through!  It  was  a 
moment  or  more  before  Jim  Warren  trusted 
himself  to  speak. 

"And  what  else  do  I  get  ?"  he  queried  quietly. 

"What  else?  I  don't  understand." 
167 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

Jim  Warren  turned  upon  him  suddenly. 

"Tillinghast,  I  know  your  situation  pre 
cisely,"  he  said  tersely.  "Lewis  was  absolute 
dictator  of  his  end  of  the  state.  When  I  beat 
him  I  ripped  his  following  wide  open.  That 
following  is  mine  now.  He  still  handles  the 
money-bag  and  his  influence  in  the  legislature 
is  no  less  than  it  was;  but  among  the  voters  in 
my  end  of  the  state  he  has  lost  cast.  Now  you 
figure  that  if  you  have  Lewis  on  your  side,  as 
you  have,  and  can  get  me  on  your  side,  you 
will  gain  all  that  Lewis  has  lost  and  more.  Isn't 
that  so?" 

The  honorable  speaker  hummed  and  hawed 
about  it. 

"It  is."  Jim  Warren  answered  his  own  ques 
tion.  "In  other  words,  with  both  of  us  on  your 
side,  that  end  of  the  state  is  certain  to  go  for 
Tillinghast.  I  am  absolutely  necessary  to  you 
if  you  carry  that  end  of  the  state;  it  is  neces 
sary  to  placate  me  with  this  committee  job — 
and  all  I  have  to  do  is  to  further  your  interests 
168 


in  the  other  end  of  the  state  with  this — this 
gold  brick.  Now,  I'm  asking  you  what  else  I 
am  to  get  out  of  it?  I  mean,  of  course,  in  ad 
dition  to  the  place  on  Public  Structures." 

Tillinghast  gasped  and  sat  down  heavily.  He 
was  overwhelmed  with  a  sense  of  impending 
disaster.  Something  was  going  to  drop  in  a 
minute.  This  red-headed  whirlwind  was  the 
person  to  drop  it.  Why  hadn't  he  let  Lewis 
deal  with  him  ? 

"I  had  assumed  that  a  place  on  one  important 
committee  would  satisfy  a  first-year  man,  who 
rarely  gets  on  any  committee  of  consequence," 
he  argued.  "I  am  certain  that  I  am  violating 
every  precedent  by  making  you  chairman  of 
that  committee.  Now  you  want  more !" 

Jim  Warren  stared  at  him  reflectively. 

"I  happen  to  know  there's  still  a  vacant  place 
on  Railroads,"  he  went  on.  "If  I  could  get  that 
too—" 

The  honorable  speaker  moaned  a  little  and 
perspiration  broke  out  on  his  brow. 
169 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

"It's  unheard  of !"  he  expostulated.  "I'd  an 
tagonize  men  whom  I  couldn't  afford  to  an 
tagonize.  I'd — " 

Suddenly  that  illuminating  grin  of  Jim  War 
ren's  broke  forth  and  shone  like  a  beacon  of 
hope.  Tillinghast  drew  a  long  breath  of  relief. 

"I  tell  you  what  I'll  do,  Tillinghast,"  Jim 
Warren  suggested ;  "I'll  compromise  with  you : 
You  make  me  chairman  of  Public  Structures 
and  give  me  a  place  on  Railroads — or  I  won't 
accept  any  place  on  any  committee." 

Here  was  confusion  and  more  of  it.  Tilling 
hast  edged  away  a  little  from  the  calloused 
hands  of  him.  The  man  was  insane ! 

"In  other  words,  give  me  all  I  want  or  noth 
ing!"  Jim  Warren  continued  naively. 

"But  I  don't  see — "  Tillinghast  began  help 
lessly. 

"All  or  nothing,"  Jim  Warren  repeated.  His 
mouth  had  grown  hard  again.  "You  won't 
have  to  urge  me  to  make  your  fight  for  recrea 
tion  piers  and  the  rest  of  it.  I'll  make  a  fight 
170 


JIM    WARREN    WINS    A    POT 

and  put  fireworks  in  it.  Whether  you  believe 
in  'em  or  not,  I  do.  I  believe  in  a  state  giving 
its  citizens  all  it  can  afford  and  more.  All  or 
nothing!"  he  concluded  abruptly. 

The  honorable  speaker  was  a  little  pale  but 
thoroughly  tame  when  the  new  chairman  of  the 
Committee  on  Public  Structures  and  the  new 
member  of  the  Committee  on  Railroads  went 
out  of  the  room  whistling. 


171 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

HALF-SPOKEN    TRUTHS 

THEY  came  out  of  the  house  together, 
Edna  Tillinghast  and  Jim  Warren — Edna 
slim  and  graceful  in  her  short  walking  skirt, 
heavily  booted,  heavily  gloved,  with  the  glory 
of  her  hair  hidden  beneath  a  saucy  tam-o'- 
shanter.  They  came  out  of  the  house  together 
into  the  winter  sunshine.  There  was  a  tang  of 
salt  in  the  air — swept  in  from  the  sea  which 
spumed  on  the  rocks — and  a  boisterous,  play 
ful  wind,  which  painted  Edna's  cheeks  the  color 
of  a  rose  and  whipped  her  skirts  about  her. 

"Which  shall  it  be?"  she  asked  at  the  end  of 
the  long  drive.  "Over  the  hills  or  along  the 
beach?" 

"If  you  leave  it  to  me,"  answered  Jim  War 
ren,  "I  say  the  beach.  I  like  the  ocean.  A  hill 
172 


HALF-SPOKEN    TRUTHS 

can  only  stand  majestically  still  and  look  impos 
ing,  but  the  ocean  can  kick  up  a  deuce  of  a  row 
if  it  has  a  mind." 

"Do  I  understand  from  that  that  you  like  a 
deuce  of  a  row,  as  you  call  it?"  Edna  was 
laughing. 

"We  grow  to  like  what  we're  used  to." 

"You  are  used  to  rows?" — demurely. 

"I've  spent  the  last  twelve  years  of  my  life 
in  a  plow  factory.  And  now  here  I'm  in 
politics!"  He  grinned.  "I  mean  that  I'd  like 
Niagara  Falls  more  than  I  would  Gibraltar, 
for  the  sole  reason  that  one  moves  and  the 
other  doesn't." 

"I  think  I  understand.  You  like  energy  for 
energy's  sake.  I  should  imagine  you  would." 
She  gave  him  a  sidelong  glance.  "You're  that 
type  of  man." 

They  walked  on  in  silence  for  a  long  way, 

their  feet  crunching  rhythmically  in  the  gravel 

of  the  beach.    Finally  Jim  Warren  paused  to 

throw  a  stone  into  the  tumbling  surf.    She 

173 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

watched  it  until  a  spurt  of  water  far  out 
marked  the  spot  where  it  fell.  Then,  again  they 
walked  on. 

"It's  very  curious  that  you  and  I  should  meet 
again,  isn't  it  ?"  he  remarked  idly. 

"Curious?  Not  particularly.  Why?" 

He  didn't  say;  he  didn't  know.  Gradually 
there  was  stealing  over  him  the  spell  of  yester 
day — that  strange,  quiet  content  which  he  was 
coming  to  associate  with  her.  Conversation 
seemed  utterly  useless.  She,  too,  seemed  to  feel 
the  mystic  charm  of  silence.  When  she  did 
speak  it  was  merely  because  it  seemed  neces 
sary  to  say  something. 

"Do  you  intend  to  make  a — a  profession  of 
politics?" 

"Well,  I  should  hate  to  have  people  call  me 
a  professional  politician,"  he  said.  "I'm  in  it 
to  stay,  if  that's  what  you  mean.  I'm  am 
bitious,  you  know." 

"Naturally.   And  what  is  your  ambition?" 

"I  haven't  the  faintest  idea  yet,  beyond — 
174 


HALF-SPOKEN    TRUTHS 

beyond  certain  things."  He  looked  down  at  her 
gravely.   "I  don't  know  where  I'll  stop." 

"Well,  the  next  step  up  would  be  the  state 
senate,  wouldn't  it?"  She  smiled.  "State  Sen 
ator  Warren!  It  would  sound  very  imposing 
and  sonorous!" 

"Ye-es,"  Jim  Warren  agreed. 

"Then  Congressman  Warren!  Then  Gov 
ernor  Warren!  Then  United  States  Senator 
Warren!  Then — " 

"Just  a  minute,  please.  This  rapid  promotion 
is  making  me  dizzy." 

The  girl  laughed.  With  the  laugh  passed 
that  singular  moodiness  which  she  had  felt 
stealing  upon  her. 

"I  consider  myself  rather  an  apt  pupil  in  this 
political  game,"  he  remarked,  his  eyes,  grown 
whimsical  again,  fixed  on  her  face.  "I  hope  to 
cut  out  some  of  the  intermediate  rungs  of  the 
ladder.  In  other  words,  it  is  my  modest  inten 
tion  to  climb  the  political  stairs  two  steps  at  a 
time." 

175 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

"Well,  please  don't  get  the  governorship  bee 
in  your  bonnet.  Papa  wants  that." 

Jim  Warren  looked  at  her  quickly  with  nar 
rowed  eyes ;  the  remark  was  innocent  of  mean 
ing. 

"Isn't  it  queer,"  she  went  on  musingly,  "how 
the  pursuit  of  an  ambition  makes  one  oblivious 
to  everything  else?  Ambition,  after  all,  is  a 
lust  for  power  and  power  is  what  we  all  seek — 
isn't  it  ?  Papa  wants  to  be  the  next  governor — 
he  will  be  the  next  governor — but  he  won't  be 
satisfied  with  that.  He's  already  looking  on 
ahead  toward  the  United  States  senatorship. 
Really,  I  don't  believe  it  has  ever  occurred  to 
him  that  while  he  is  governor  he  may  be  able 
to  do  things  for  the  people.  He  doesn't  seem 
to  think  of  that  at  all.  He's  only  thinking  of 
what  he  can  do  as  governor  to  advance  his 
chances  of  becoming  United  States  senator." 

Vaguely  Jim  Warren  was  wondering 
whether  the  girl  knew  how  accurately  she  had 
summarized  the  situation.  Of  course,  she 
176 


HALF-SPOKEN   TRUTHS 

didn't  know,  but  he  couldn't  have  said  it  more 
pointedly  himself.  She  turned  upon  him  with 
shining  eyes. 

"Mr.  Lewis  tells  me  that  your  political  future 
is  assured,"  she  added.  "I'm  very  glad.  I  like 
to  think  that  you  will  owe  all  your  achievements 
to  his  generosity." 

"To  his — what?"  asked  Jim  Warren. 

"His  generosity,"  she  explained.  "I  mean 
his  withdrawal,  of  course.  That  made  your 
election  possible." 

"Why,  I'd  have—"  And  there  Jim  War 
ren  stopped;  he  had  remembered  the  ties  that 
bound  this  girl  to  Lewis.  "I  forgot.  You 
didn't  read  the  newspaper  accounts  of  my  cam 
paign." 

"No."  Her  eyes  dropped.  She  had  become 
quite  serious.  "I  told  you  why.  Let's  not  go 
into  that  again."  She  was  silent  a  moment; 
then  brightly:  "You  interrupted  yourself. 
You  started  to  say  something,  then  shut  up  like 
a  clam.  What  was  it  ?" 
177 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

"You  know  about  my  campaign  only  from 
what  Mr.  Lewis  has  told  you?" 

"Yes."  Her  eyes  opened  a  little.  "He  ex 
plained  all  of  it  to  me — why  he  retired  in  your 
favor  and  the  rest  of  it." 

Jim  Warren  flung  another  stone  into  the  sea. 
He,  too,  was  serious — deadly  serious. 

"I  don't  think  we'd  better  discuss  politics, 
Miss  Tillinghast,"  he  remarked  irrelevantly. 

"Why  not  ?"  There  was  a  perplexed  wrinkle 
in  her  brow.  "Why  shouldn't  we  ?  What  was 
it  you  started  to  say?" 

"It  doesn't  amount  to  anything,  really." 
Suddenly  Jim  Warren  tired  of  this  game  of 
half -spoken  truths.  He  was  possessed  of  an 
idea  to  make  her  understand.  "I  started  to 
say,"  he  went  on  deliberately,  "that  I  would 
have  beaten  Lewis  anyhow.  His  withdrawal 
meant  nothing." 

Edna  stared  at  him  with  dilated  eyes. 

"You  mean  you  would  have  won  without 
Mr.  Lewis'  support?" 

178 


HALF-SPOKEN   TRUTHS 

"Certainly."  He  made  no  pretense  of  soft 
ening  an  obvious  fact. 

"How  ?" — imperiously. 

"How  ?"  Jim  Warren  repeated  blankly.  "By 
continuing  to  do  what  I  started  out  to  do ;  by 
showing  Lewis' — er — his  connection  with — 
— er — "  He  stopped  abruptly. 

"By  continuing  your  attacks  on  Mr.  Lewis, 
you  mean?"  she  demanded  hotly.  "It's  easy  to 
campaign  on  personalities.  That's  what  you 
were  doing,  wasn't  it  ?" 

For  a  moment  Jim  Warren  regarded  her 
tensely.  A  tendril  of  her  hair  was  blowing  free 
across  her  face ;  her  limpid  eyes  were  alive  as 
flame. 

"I  shouldn't  have  called  it  that,"  he  said 
slowly. 

"But  that's  what  it  was !" 

"There  are  personalities  and  personalities. 

If  I  should  criticize  the  cut  of  a  man's  coat  or 

his  cross-eyes  or  his  bow-legs,  that  is  one  thing. 

On  the  other  hand,  if  I  should  attack  his  public 

179 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

record'  and  show  that  he  was — er — show  that 
he  had  made  mistakes  which — which  compro 
mised  his  honesty,  that  is  quite  another  matter." 

There  was  nothing  of  fear  in  Edna's  sudden 
drawing  away  from  him — only  aversion.  He 
saw  it  instantly  and  understood  it.  If  it  had 
been  only  fear — 

"Do  you  pay  all  your  debts  of  gratitude  in 
this  coin?"  she  asked  coldly. 

"I  owe  no  debt  of  gratitude  to — "  He 
stopped,  ashamed  of  himself. 

"I'm  not  a  child,  Mr.  Warren.  I  understand 
that  for  political  gain  it  is  always  possible  to 
magnify  a  trivial  incident  into  a  mountain  of 
evil  if  one  is  clever,  as  you  are,  and  if  one  has 
his  partizans,  as  you  have." 

"You  don't  know  why  he  quit  in  my  favor !" 
he  went  on  ruthlessly. 

"I  do  know.    He  explained  it  to  me." 

"He  must  have  had  a  busy  minute  of  it !" 

The  girl's  face  went  white  with  anger.  She 
1 80 


"I  owe  no  debt  of  gratitude  tc 


HALF-SPOKEN    TRUTHS 

turned  upon  him  with  the  reproof  that  burned 
upon  her  lips. 

"That's  cowardly !"  Her  voice  was  broken 
by  the  intensity  of  her  emotion.  "Cowardly!" 
she  repeated  helplessly. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  Jim  Warren 
hastily.  "I  shouldn't  have  said  that.  I  was 
afraid  a  political  discussion  would  result  in — " 
A  madness  seemed  to  seize  upon  him.  What 
was  the  good  of  all  this  dissimulation?  She 
must  understand  sometime.  He  would  make 
her  understand  now.  "If  a  soldier,  who  is 
sworn  to  defend  his  country,  allows  himself  to 
be  bribed  to  betray  that  country,  they  shoot 
him,  don't  they?" 

"Well?" 

"They  don't  shoot  members  of  the  legisla 
ture." 

"You  mean  that  Mr.  Lewis — " 

"Some  day  you  will  understand." 


181 


CHAPTER    XIX 

JIM   WARREN  AWAKES 

NEVER  before  in  his  thirty-two  years  had 
Jim  Warren  come  face  to  face  with  the 
eternal  problem  of  woman.  It  took  him  days 
and  days  to  discover  for  himself  a  thing  Adam 
knew  thousands  of  years  ago — that  woman  is 
irreducible  by  any  known  formula,  mathe 
matical  or  otherwise.  If  there  had  only  been 
figures  and  symbols  and  rules!  But  there  is 
none — alas !  In  the  absence  of  these  he  betook 
himself  to  the  solitude  of  his  room  and  at 
tempted  to  reason  it  all  out.  Now,  reason  is 
not  only  inapplicable  but  wholly  superfluous  in 
any  consideration  of  the  woman  problem.  So 
is  logic.  But  Jim  Warren  didn't  know  that. 
On  the  evening  of  his  return  to  the  city 
182 


JIM    WARREN    AWAKES 

Lewis  dropped  in,  as  he  had  said  he  would. 
Jim  Warren  stared  at  him  dully. 

"Well,  how  did  you  come  out?"  Lewis 
wanted  to  know. 

"Tillinghast  has  made  me  chairman  of  the 
Committee  on  Public  Structures,"  said  Jim 
Warren. 

"Very  good!"  That  was  according  to  the 
plan. 

"And  a  member  of  the  Committee  on  Rail 
roads." 

"The  Committee  on — "  Lewis  stopped, 
speechless,  and  gazed  at  him  in  utter  astonish 
ment.  "Did  you — er— draw  a  gun  on  him — or 
anything?" 

"No!"— simply. 

"What  else?"    Lewis  was  sarcastic. 

"Nothing."    Jim  Warren  didn't  know  it. 

After  a  little  while  Lewis  went  away  and 
Jim  Warren  resumed  his  pondering  on  the 
problem  in  hand.  It  was  simple  enough,  con 
sisting  as  it  did  of  only  one  question:  Why 
183 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

couldn't  a  woman — Edna  Tillinghast,  to  be  ex 
act — understand  that  a  man  who  sold  his  own 
vote  and  influence  in  the  legislature  of  his  state, 
and  trafficked  in  the  votes  of  others,  was  just 
as  much  a  traitor  to  his  country  as  was  a  sol 
dier  who  walked  into  the  enemy's  camp  and  de 
livered  over  the  plans  of  campaign  ?  Of  course, 
in  this  instance,  the  girl  loved  the  man;  but 
should  love  make  her  blind  to  his  crookedness  ? 
Evidently  it  had — but  should  it?  In  all  his 
moody  ponderings  he  was  able  to  find  only  one 
answer  to  that. 

There  was  a  hullabaloo  in  the  legislative 
chamber  on  the  following  morning  when 
Dwight  Tillinghast  announced  the  Committee 
on  Public  Structures  and  the  Committee  on 
Railroads.  Every  precedent  had  been  violated ! 
Everybody  said  it  at  once  and,  there  being  no 
possible  chance  for  argument,  there  followed 
the  question:  "Why?" 

"Because  Mr.  Tillinghast  wanted  a  practical 
184 


JIM   WARREN    AWAKES 

man  on  those  two  committees,  where  a  prac 
tical  man  was  needed,"  Lewis  explained  ur 
banely  to  the  scowling  mob  that  besieged  him. 
"Mr.  Warren  is  practical." 

Jim  Warren  sat  through  the  uproar  with 
far-away  thoughts.  .  .  .  The  mere  fact  that 
she  loved  him  was  no  reason  why  she  shouldn't 
realize  that  he  was  crooked.  Why,  then,  was 
she  blind  to  it  ?  Was  it  that  she  didn't  under 
stand  political  right  and  wrong?  Was  it  be 
cause  of  the  lies  of  her  father  and  of  Lewis? 
Had  they  made  her  believe  that  all  those 
charges  by  which  he  had  made  Lewis  quit  were 
mere  vapory  nothings — things  of  no  moment, 
except  in  so  far  as  they  might  arouse  sentiment 
against  him?  She  believed  that  Lewis'  with 
drawal  had  been  really  a  magnanimous  act; 
therefore  all  that  Jim  Warren  had  said  and 
done  in  opposition  to  him  had  strengthened  her 
belief  in  his  generosity.  At  the  last  she  had 
accused  him,  Jim  Warren,  of  being  ungrateful! 
She  had  said  she  was  not  a  child.  Jim  Warren 
185 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

tried  his  best  to  make  himself  believe  that  she 
was  a  child!  If  he  could  only  have  believed 
that! 

Lewis  came  and  stood  by  Jim  Warren's  desk, 
looking  out  over  the  chamber  with  cold,  cynical 
eyes.  There  was  a  sneer  on  his  face. 

"It  kicked  up  one  hell  of  a  young  row,  all 
right !"  he  volunteered. 

"What?"  asked  Jim  Warren. 

"What !"  Lewis  repeated.  He  stared  at  Jim 
Warren  a  moment  and  went  away. 

...  As  opposed  to  this  generous  hypo 
thesis,  there  was  another — an  ugly  one.  Per 
haps  she  did  understand  and  sought  to  palliate 
Lewis'  crookedness!  Riches  make  their  pos 
sessors  arrogant  and  give  them  standards  of 
which  the  unit  is  the  dollar  mark.  Was  that 
it?  Her  father  was  a  rich,  complacent,  fat, 
overfed  hypocrite.  Was  she,  too,  a  hypocrite  ? 
The  glitter  of  her  luxurious  life,  the  emptiness 
of  it  all — had  it  utterly  crushed  every  fine  in 
stinct  in  her — every  instinct  of  honesty  ?  Was 
186 


JIM    WARREN    AWAKES 

her  attitude  that  of  an  innocent  one  who 
didn't  understand  or  of  a  brazen  one  who 
didn't  care? 

Days  passed  and  still  that  last  question  re 
mained  unanswered.  The  expected  bills  pro 
viding  for  recreation  piers  and  a  new  state 
school  and  half  a  dozen  libraries  were  dumped 
in  on  the  house  one  day  by  Representative 
Tyson,  who  incidentally  was  also  on  Public 
Structures.  These  were  the  bills  Jim  Warren 
was  to  fight  for — to  further  Tillinghast's 
golden  dream  of  the  governorship.  However, 
they  would  have  to  pass  a  third  reading  before 
they  reached  the  committee;  meanwhile  Jim 
Warren  had  time  to  brood.  His  abstraction  at 
last  aroused  a  glimmer  of  suspicion  in  Lewis' 
mind. 

"The  bills  are  all  in,"  he  remarked  to  Jim 
Warren  gratuitously  one  day.  There  was 
something  about  Jim  Warren's  attitude  that  he 
didn't  like. 

"I  know  it,"  was  the  reply. 
187 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

"They'll  be  before  your  committee  in  a  day 
or  so." 

"There's  nothing  I  can  do,  yet — is  there?" 

"No." 

"Well?" 

It  was  a  dismissal.  Lewis  understood  it  as 
such.  He  stood  in  a  corner  of  the  lobby  for  a 
long  time  and  stroked  his  chin  thoughtfully. 
It  might  be  necessary  to  get  to  this  man  in  an 
other  way.  How  ? 

Slowly  Jim  Warren  evolved  an  answer  to 
the  question  that  was  tormenting  him — slowly 
and  reluctantly:  Edna  Tillinghast  did  under 
stand  that  Lewis  was  a  crook,  but  she  didn't 
care!  It  didn't  matter  to  her  whether  men 
were  honest  or  dishonest!  No  other  conclu 
sion  was  possible.  She  was  not  a  fool.  What 
if  she  hadn't  read  his  charges  against  Lewis? 
It  was  impossible  that  she  should  not  know  of 
them.  .  .  .  She  knew,  all  right!  It  didn't 
matter  to  her — that  was  all ! 

This  question  settled  at  last,  there  came  an- 
188 


JIM    WARREN    AWAKES 

other:  What  did  it  matter  to  him,  Jim  War 
ren,  what  she  thought  of  Lewis'  honesty  or 
dishonesty?  What  business  was  it  of  his?  She 
belonged  to  Lewis,  didn't  she?  She  was  part 
of  the  price  Tillinghast  was  paying  for  the 
honor  of  Lewis'  support  for  governor,  wasn't 
she?  What  did  it  matter  to  him,  Jim  War 
ren? 

"Nothing,"  he  told  himself. 

And  a  day  or  so  later  she  appeared  in  the 
gallery  of  the  House.  Jim  Warren  happened 
to  glance  up  and  saw  her  there  with  Lewis. 
At  the  same  instant  she  saw  him  and  waved 
her  handkerchief.  He  nodded.  Lewis  was 
with  her,  of  course!  But  what  did  it  matter 
to  him,  Jim  Warren? 

"Everything !" 

Through  the  clouds  of  conjecture  that  had 
tormented  him  one  isolated  fact  suddenly 
thrust  its  head.  Whoever  and  whatever  this 
girl  was,  he  wanted  her — honest  or  dishonest, 
arrogant  or  humble,  rich  or  poor,  he  wanted 
189 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

her!  It  was  elemental — the  call  of  sex  to  sex. 
And,  wanting  her,  he  would  have  her.  Noth 
ing  to  the  contrary  ever  occurred  to  him.  At 
first  she  had  awed  him  from  the  pinnacle  of  her 
social  position.  Awe  changed  to  admiration; 
admiration  had  changed  to  the  one  thought  of 
owning  her.  Lewis!  Faugh!  So  much  the 
worse  for  Lewis!  But  she  was  betrothed  to 
Lewis !  Well,  what  of  it  ? 

"The  minute  a  man  gets  what  he  has  wanted 
more  than  anything  else  in  the  world,"  Jim 
Warren  philosophized,  "there's  something  else 
he  wants  worse.  I  want  her  and,  by  the  living 
God,  I'll  have  her!" 


190 


CHAPTER   XX 

CAUGHT   IN    THE   TENTACLES 

STRANGE  thoughts  grew  out  of  Jim  War 
ren's  sudden  determination  —  dishonest 
thoughts,  envious  thoughts.  He  put  them  all 
in  the  pot  and  boiled  them  together.  They 
simmered  down  to  this:  Position  and  wealth 
were  necessary  to  win  her — and  he  had  neither ! 
Position  he  would  win  in  this  political  game; 
money  he  could  get,  and  all  the  more  easily  that 
she  didn't  care  where  it  came  from.  He  was 
here  in  a  jungle  of  temptation.  All  he  had  to 
do  was  to  reach  out  both  hands  and  pick  hun 
dred-dollar  bills  from  every  bush  and  vine. 
The  Committee  on  Public  Structures  was  a 
harvest  to  be  garnered — and  he  was  chairman ! 
Then  Railroads,  too! 

The  big  idea?     He  shook  his  head  impa- 
191 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

tiently  as  it  recurred  to  him.  A  quixotic  thing, 
anyway!  But  the  sealed  packet  in  the  safe  de 
posit  vault?  Perfectly  simple.  Let  it  remain 
there.  Nobody  knew  it  was  in  existence  save 
the  people  in  the  bank — and  not  one  person 
knew  what  was  in  it  save  himself.  Let  it  stay 
there  and  rot!  With  money,  he  could  buy  the 
smiles  that  were  now  given  to  Lewis.  It  seemed 
strange  that  after  all  his  plans  the  one  thing  he 
wanted  most  in  all  the  world — Edna  Tilling- 
hast — would  be  possible  to  him  only  by  dishon 
esty!  It  was  not  fit  that  it  should  be  so — but 
so  be  it ! 

It  happened  a  day  or  so  later  that  Tyson 
dropped  down  at  the  table  where  Jim  Warren 
was  at  luncheon.  Jim  Warren  looked  him  over 
thoughtfully.  His  face  and  neck  were  fat  and 
pudgy  and  coarse;  an  enormous  diamond  glit 
tered  on  one  of  his  thick  fingers;  another 
flashed  in  his  tie. 

"Tyson,"  asked  Jim  Warren  curiously,  "how 
many  years  have  you  been  up  here?" 
192 


CAUGHT    IN   THE   TENTACLES 

"Six.    Why?" 

"What  was  your  business  ?" 

"Liquor." 

"You've  made  a  fairly  good  thing  of  this 
job,  haven't  you? — that  is,  you're  well-to-do 
now." 

Tyson  flicked  the  ashes  from  his  cigar  into 
the  salad  dish  and  turned  his  small  eyes  upon 
Jim  Warren  keenly.  He  had  an  uncomfort 
able  suspicion  that  Jim  Warren  was  honest — 
and  being  honest  he  was  not  a  fit  person  to  con 
fide  in.  Then,  too,  there  was  something  in 
his  manner,  in  his  quick,  short  questions,  in 
the  steadiness  of  his  cerulean  gaze,  that  dis 
concerted  him. 

"What's  the  answer?"  he  inquired. 

"I  was  merely  curious — that's  all,"  Jim 
Warren  explained.  "Everybody  in  the  capitol 
seems  to  be  very  prosperous  except  me.  I  was 
wondering  how  they  managed  it.  I  gave  up 
two  thousand  a  year  to  come  here  at  eight  hun 
dred.  You  get  just  what  I  do,  yet  you  live  at 
193 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

a  big  hotel,  with  a  suite  of  rooms  and  a  valet, 
and  an  automobile  and  a  chauffeur.  Are  you 
still  in  the  liquor  business  ?" 

"No,"  said  Tyson.  "I'm  interested  in — in 
two  or  three  little  things  that — er — "  He 
stopped. 

"On  the  level  now,  Tyson — between  man 
and  man,"  Jim  Warren  urged.  "Just  because 
I  was  elected  to  this  legislature  as  a  labor  man 
and  a  reformer,  there  seems  to  be  a  popular 
impression  that  I'm  here  for  my  health.  You 
didn't  come  here  for  your  health,  did  you?" 

"Well — not  exactly." 

"What's  the  answer?" 

Tyson  rolled  his  cigar  around  in  his  rosebud 
mouth  and  his  piggy  eyes  were  blazing  with 
curiosity.  Finally  he  said : 

"Warren,  they  tell  me  that  you  did  hand 
Franques  an  awful  wallop  down  in  Warbur- 
ton?" 

"I  did.  I  used  him  as  far  as  he  was  useful, 
then  passed  him  up." 

194 


CAUGHT    IN    THE    TENTACLES 

"You  know  you  can't  do  that  in  politics — 
but  once." 

"Why  not?" 

"Because  you  won't  get  a  second  oppor 
tunity.  Everybody  up  here  knows  about  it. 
Even  if  it  was  in  anybody's  way  to — to — well, 
to  slip  you  something  he'd  be  afraid  to."  He 
smoked  on.  "I'm  not  saying  that  anybody 
ever  does  slip  anybody  anything  up  here,  you 
understand  ?" 

"Oh,  no!"  Jim  Warren  pondered  the  mat 
ter  all  the  way  through  the  entree.  "Did  it 
ever  occur  to  you  why  I  turned  down  Fran- 
ques?" 

Tyson  shook  his  head. 

"He  had  deliberately  betrayed  Lewis;  I 
didn't  know  what  he  might  do  to  me." 

After  a  moment  Tyson  rose  languidly  and 
strolled  out.  At  the  door  he  turned  as  if  to 
come  back,  but  changed  his  mind. 

That  night  it  was  that  Lewis  dropped  in  on 
Jim  Warren  again  in  the  wretched,  smelly 

195 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

lodging-house  in  the  dingy  side  street.  Appar 
ently  he  had  just  come  up  to  talk  over  a  few 
things — the  fight  that  would  begin  in  Public 
Structures  next  day  on  the  various  bills  that 
were  intended  to  promote  the  political  well- 
being  of  Dwight  Tillinghast.  He  talked  on  for 
an  hour  or  so  without  having  said  anything 
in  particular,  after  which  he  rose  to  go. 

"You  won't  mind,  Warren,  if  I'm  frank  with 
you  about  one  or  two  matters,  will  you?"  he 
asked  hesitatingly. 

"Not  at  all,"  said  Jim  Warren.    "Go  ahead." 

"You  know — you  know  you're  a  big  man 
up  here,  Warren,"  Lewis  went  on  in  the  same 
tone.  "You're  chairman  of  a  big  committee 
and  a  member  of  another  big  committee.  You 
are  as  close  to  Tillinghast  and  myself  as  any 
body  else  in  the  chamber — perhaps  closer;  and 
it  occurs  to  me  that — well,  that  you  ought  to 
be  more  decently  situated  than  you  are — away 
out  here." 

With  a  deprecatory  movement  of  his  hands 
196 


CAUGHT    IN    THE   TENTACLES 

he  indicated  the  room  and  its  furnishings.  Jim 
Warren  looked  about  curiously,  as  if  it  were 
all  strange  to  him.  At  last  his  sky-blue  eyes 
met  Lewis'. 

"I'm  a  poor  man,  Lewis,"  he  said  simply. 
"I  told  you  once  before." 

"But,  really,"  Lewis  expostulated,  "you 
ought  to  be  better  situated  than  this.  It's  an  in 
justice  not  only  to  yourself  but  to  your  con 
stituents.  Suppose  Warburton  should  send  a 
delegation  up  here  and  they  should — "  He 
spread  his  hands  again  in  a  gesture. 

"Can't  help  it,"  said  Jim  Warren. 

Lewis  scrutinized  his  gray  suede  gloves  for 
a  moment  in  silence. 

"Pardon  me ;  I  don't  want  to  suggest  the  in 
delicate  thing,  but  if  I  could  be  of  any  assist 
ance  to  you?"  he  questioned.  "If  you  hap 
pened  to  be  short  of  funds  at  the  moment — " 

"So  soon!"  Jim  Warren  grinned. 

"Only  a  trifling  loan  ?"  Lewis  urged  blandly. 
"The  representative  of  a  great  district  like 
197 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

Warburton  shouldn't  be  hidden  away  in  a  hole 
like  this."  He  paused.  "A  thousand  or  so  and 
your  note  for  a  year." 

Jim  Warren  turned  away  from  him  abruptly 
and  stood  at  the  window  idly  snapping  his 
fingers.  Below  was  Lewis'  automobile,  purr 
ing  patiently. 

"I  might  not  be  able  to  repay  you  at  the  end 
of  the  year,"  he  said  at  last,  without  looking 
around. 

"Two  years,  then — five  years!"  Lewis  sug 
gested  generously.  "That  doesn't  matter, 
really.  Don't  let  it  disturb  you  for  a  mo 
ment." 

Jim  Warren  whirled  around ;  Lewis  dodged. 

"Don't  tempt  me,  Lewis,"  he  pleaded,  almost 
bitterly.  "I  don't  love  poverty  for  poverty's 
sake.  I  know  I  shouldn't  be  here,  but  I  can't 
afford  anything  else.  I  saved  a  bit  of  my  sal 
ary,  it's  true ;  but — " 

"It  just  happens  that  I  have  a  blank  note  in 
my  pocket,"  Lewis  interrupted  courteously. 
198 


CAUGHT    IN    THE    TENl'ACLES 

He  dropped  down  at  the  pine  table  that  served 
Jim  Warren  for  a  desk.  "Say,  fifteen  hun 
dred?  That  will  make  you  comfortable  for 
a  few  weeks;  and,  after  that,  if  I  can  do  any 
thing  else — " 

Dumbly  Jim  Warren  looked  on  as  Lewis 
filled  in  the  note.  There  was  a  little  mercenary 
glint  in  his  eyes  as  Lewis  counted  out  fifteen 
one-hundred-dollar  bills  and  laid  them  on  the 
table. 

Jim  Warren  put  his  hands  behind  his  back. 

"What  have  I  got  to  do  for  that?"  he  de 
manded  abruptly. 

"There  you  go  again,"  Lewis  reproved  pleas 
antly.  "Nothing,  of  course;  absolutely  noth 
ing,  except  sign  this  note.  It  isn't  a  bribe;  it's 
a  loan." 

For  half  a  minute  Jim  Warren  merely 
stared  at  him,  stared  until  Lewis  began  to  fear 
that  he  had  been  precipitate;  and  the  weird 
thought  entered  his  head  that  perhaps  this  man 
was  honest !  Jim  Warren  sat  down  and  signed 
199 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

the  note.  Lewis  tucked  it  away  in  his  pocket- 
book.  .  .  .  After  a  while  the  door  opened 
and  closed — and  he  was  gone. 

"I  think,  maybe,  I've  got  you  where  I  want 
you  now,  Mr.  Warren!"  he  exclaimed  exul 
tantly  as  he  made  his  way  down  the  dim  stairs. 
"Just  so  much  as  a  whimper  out  of  you,  and — " 

Jim  Warren  stood  perfectly  still  until  the 
automobile  below  bellowed  and  moved  away. 
Then  he  grinned. 

"At  last,"  he  said,  "I'm  a  regular  politician. 
I've  been  bribed — and  everything."  His  eyes 
grew  steely;  he  was  thinking  of  Her.  "Lewis, 
I'm  sorry  for  you !" 

On  the  following  morning  Jim  Warren 
opened  an  account  at  the  Sandringham  Na 
tional  Bank  with  a  deposit  of  fifteen  hundred 
dollars. 


200 


CHAPTER    XXI 

REALIZATION 

"/"T^HEY  don't  shoot  members  of  the  legis- 
A  lature!"  Edna  pondered  that  absurd 
statement  for  days,  vaguely  conscious  that 
back  of  it  lay  an  accusation  of — of — dishon 
esty? — that  at  least — against  Francis  Everard 
Lewis,  whose  name  she  was  to  bear ;  to  whom 
her  hand  was  pledged.  Finally  she  came  to 
see  that  Jim  Warren  had  meant  that  he,  Lewis, 
was  morally  on  a  level  with  a  traitor  who  sold 
his  country.  Complete  realization  made  her 
face  go  scarlet  with  anger!  It  was  contempt 
ible  !  She  despised  innuendos.  And  this  from 
Jim  Warren  after  Lewis,  believing  in  him,  had 
made  him  what  he  was!  Not  only  was  Jim 
Warren  ungrateful,  but,  knowing  of  her  be 
trothal  to  Lewis,  he  had  sought  to  sow  the  seed 
that  would  destroy  her  faith  in  him. 
201 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

In  the  beginning  she  had  fallen  under  the 
influence  of  that  strange,  intangible  quality  that 
won  men  to  Jim  Warren.  She  had  felt  it  that 
first  day  she  saw  him — that  day  in  the  bank 
when  he  had  looked  so  ridiculously  in  earnest, 
pirouetting  around  after  that  silly  little  dog. 
She  had  felt  it  still  more  at  her  next  meeting 
with  him — the  day  her  automobile  had  broken 
down.  There  was  a  comforting  sense  of  power 
about  him,  a  quaint  frankness,  an  odd,  boyish 
twist  of  mind  that  belied  the  real  man.  She 
was  glad  that  at  last  he  had  lifted  his  mask 
and  bared  his  envious,  cowardly  soul.  That 
was  the  end,  of  course ;  she  would  despise  him. 
For  a  time  this  thought  satisfied  her.  Imperi 
ously  she  denied  vague  questionings  of  her  con 
science. 

Having  resolved  never  to  permit  Jim  Warren 
to  intrude  upon  the  serenity  of  her  mind  again, 
she  found  him  constantly  in  her  thoughts — but 
only  that  she  might  hate  him,  she  told  herself 
arrogantly.  She  found  his  name  always  be- 
202 


REALIZATION 

fore  her  in  the  daily  press — and  his  photo 
graph.  The  day  following  his  appointment  as 
chairman  of  the  Committee  on  Public  Struc 
tures  she  met  those  whimsical  eyes,  that  half- 
smiling  mouth,  in  every  newspaper  she  picked 
up.  She  flung  them  down  rebelliously. 

Women  are  hopelessly  illogical — that's  why 
they  are  women ;  also,  perhaps — this  is  a  plati 
tude — that's  why  we  love  them.  No  man  can 
love  an  adding  machine.  Edna,  being  a 
woman,  was  as  illogical  as  the  rest  of  them. 
So  it  was  that  one  afternoon,  despite  her  prom 
ise  to  her  father,  she  hauled  down  a  great 
scrapbook  in  which  an  obliging  press-clipping 
bureau  had  garnered  newspaper  and  magazine 
articles  that  had  to  do  with  her  father's  politi 
cal  career  and  with  Lewis'.  Here  was  Jim 
Warren's  fight  against  Lewis  from  beginning 
to  end.  She  read  it  guiltily,  with  tense  interest 
— all  of  it,  from  Jim  Warren's  first  flippant 
declaration  that  he  would  make  Lewis  climb  a 
tree  and  pull  the  tree  up  after  him,  down  to  the 
203 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

incident  of  the  fifty-thousand-dollar  note,  and 
that  fateful  interview  which  Jim  Warren  had 
made  a  matter  of  record  on  a  phonograph. 

Slowly,  as  she  read,  the  color  ebbed  from 
her  face.  Had  she  been  blind  not  to  have  un 
derstood  all  this  before?  Where  was  Lewis' 
denial?  There  was  none;  he  had  made  no 
denial.  Smilingly  he  had  told  her  that  denials 
of  charges  like  these  in  the  great  game  of 
politics  was  a  mere  waste  of  time.  It  had 
sounded  plausible  enough  then,  but  these 
things  cried  for  denial.  Her  father,  too,  had 
casually  pointed  out  that  all  men  in  politics 
were  liable  to  bitter  and  violent  attacks  and 
advised  her  to  pay  no  heed  to  comments  in  the 
press.  That  might  be  all  right  in  some  cases; 
but  this. — this —  Her  father!  Was  he,  too, 
dishonest?  He  knew  of  all  this !  And  yet  he 
was  blind  to  it!  Blind  to  it  because  of  his 
ambition ! 

She  sat  staring  blankly  at  the  pages  for  a 
long,  long  time.  Finally  she  flung  herself 
204 


'And  bribery  is  a  crime?"  she  went 


REALIZATION 

across  the  bed  and  wept.  That  night,  mouse 
like,  she  crept  into  the  great  library  where  her 
father  sat  gazing  thoughtfully  into  the  open 
fire  and  dropped  on  the  floor  at  his  knee.  He 
placed  a  caressing  arm  about  her  shoulders. 

"Father,"  she  queried  after  a  little,  in  a  hard, 
strained  voice,  "if  a  man  who  holds  public 
office  accepts  money  from — well,  from  any  one 
— a  corporation,  say — in  return  for  his  vote 
and  influence  in  that  office,  it  is  bribery — 
isn't  it?" 

"Certainly,"  her  father  responded  readily. 
He  was  immersed  in  a  rosy  glamour  of  con 
templation,  planning  the  things  he  would  do 
when  he  was  governor. 

"And  bribery  is  a  crime  ?"  she  went  on. 

"Yes.  It's  a  penal  offense  either  to  give  or 
accept  a  bribe." 

"It  is  dishonesty  ?    Treason,  even  ?" 

"Yes"— absently. 

"They  send  men  to  jail  for  it  ?" 

"If  they  catch  them." 
205 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

A  long,  long  silence. 

"Somehow  I  didn't  understand  it  that  way," 
Edna  said  wearily  at  last.  "It  had  never  oc 
curred  to  me  that  one  was  not  rightfully  en 
titled  to  what  one  might  earn  by  advancing  the 
interests  of  a  corporation,  say,  with  which  he 
might  be  connected." 

"As  you  state  it,  one  is  entitled  to  what  one 
may  earn."  Tillinghast  took  the  trouble  to 
explain.  "But  if  one  holds  public  office,  and 
sells  his  vote  and  influence  to  a  corporation,  it 
is  bribery." 

Another  long  silence. 

"Of  course,"  she  said  faintly,  at  last,  "that 
makes  it  impossible." 

"Makes  what  impossible  ?" 

"My  marriage  to  Mr.  Lewis" — simply. 

Startled  out  of  his  sensuous  contemplation 
of  power,  Tillinghast  straightened  up  suddenly 
and  looked  amazed  into  the  white  face  of  his 
daughter. 

"How ! — why ! — what  are  you  talking  about, 
206 


REALIZATION 

my  dear?"  he  demanded.     His  words  fairly 
tripped  over  one  another. 

"Just  what  I  say."  She  didn't  even  look  up. 
"I  can't  marry  a  criminal ;  you  wouldn't  have 
me  marry  one.  I  never  understood  before. 
From  what  Mr.  Lewis  said — " 

"Lewis  a  criminal!"  her  father  broke  in, 
aghast.  "My  dear  daughter,  what  is  the  mat 
ter  with  you?" 

"He  is  a  criminal,  isn't  he?  He  did  sell  his 
vote  and  influence  to  a  corporation  while  he 
held  public  office,  didn't  he?  He  has  given 
and  accepted  bribes,  hasn't  he?  He's  grown 
rich  and  powerful  from  nothing  just  as  Mr. 
Warren  charged,  hasn't  he?  He  did  offer  Mr. 
Warren  twenty-five  thousand  dollars  not  to 
run,  didn't  he?" 

Chaos  was  come.  That  fat,  benignant-look 
ing  hypocrite,  Dwight  Tillinghast,  breathed 
heavily  through  his  nose  as  he  looked  upon  it. 

"What's  the  matter  with  you?"  he  repeated 
helplessly. 

207 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

"Nothing,  except  that  I've  come  to  under 
stand  some  things  that  I  didn't  understand  be 
fore." 

"Sold  his  vote  and  influence — "  he  began. 

"For  fifty  thousand  dollars!"  Edna  inter 
rupted  unemotionally. 

"That  note,  you  mean?  Why,  Edna,  you 
amaze  me!  That  was  merely  a  loan." 

"A  loan  made  four  years  ago  by  a  corpora 
tion  to  a  man  who  held  public  office — a  loan 
that  never  was  repaid.  Mr.  Lewis  had  noth 
ing  to  offer  in  return  for  that  loan  except  his 
vote  and  influence,  had  he  ?" 

"A  loan,  nevertheless,"  her  father  exploded 
suddenly.  "You  are  talking  about  things  you 
don't  understand." 

The  girl  rose  and  stood  facing  her  father. 
There  was  no  trace  of  emotion  in  her  manner ; 
no  sign  of  perturbation — save  that  she  was 
deadly  white. 

"Of  course,  it's  impossible,"  she  said  coldly. 
"I  shall  tell  him  so  next  time  he  calls.  I  have 
208 


REALIZATION 

been  placed  in  a  false  position  in  the  eyes  of 
the  world — in  the  eyes  of  Mr.  Warren.  Every 
one  knew  who  and  what  Mr.  Lewis  was  except 
myself.  I—" 

Tillinghast  came  to  his  feet  ponderously. 

"Edna,  you  don't  know  what  you  are  do 
ing!"  he  exclaimed  pleadingly.  "My  candi 
dacy  for  governor,  my  child.  If  Lewis  with 
draws  his  support — and  he  will  if  you  do  this 
— I  am  lost.  You  must  marry  him !" 

"Must!"  she  repeated  quietly,  very  quietly. 
"My  own  father  tells  me  that  I  must  marry  a 
traitor,  a  thief,  to  further  his  political  ambi 
tion!" 

"It  isn't  that,  Edna,"  the  honorable  speaker 
whined.  "Mr.  Lewis  is  an  honest  gentleman. 
You  don't  understand!"  Her  eyes  met  his 
placidly.  "If  he  withdraws  his  support — " 

"I  will  not  marry  him!"  It  was  final.  She 
turned  and  passed  out  the  door. 


209 


CHAPTER   XXII 

JIM    WARREN,    GRAFTER 

IT  was  a  strange  metamorphosis  that  was 
worked  in  Jim  Warren  by  that  fifteen 
hundred  dollars.  He  had  never  known  luxury, 
he  had  never  craved  it ;  but  now  he  would  have 
just  fifteen  hundred  dollars'  worth  of  it.  If  it 
panned  out  he  would  have  more;  if  it  didn't — 
in  that  event  his  plans  were  unsettled.  Fifteen 
hundred  dollars  wouldn't  last  long,  but  there 
was  more  where  that  came  from  and  when  that 
source  was  exhausted  there  were  a  thousand 
others.  So  it  came  to  pass  that  Jim  Warren 
moved  out  of  that  dingy  house  in  that  dingy 
side  street,  where  he  had  been  quartered  at  six 
dollars  a  week,  into  a  suite  of  apartments  ad 
joining  those  of  Representative  Tyson  in  a 
down-town  hotel,  at  one  hundred  dollars  a 
week.  The  sensation  of  physical  comfort  fol- 
210 


JIM    WARREN,    GRAFTER 

lowing  the  change  was  pleasant — most  pleas 
ant. 

Within  a  week  or  so  Jim  Warren  had  be 
come  a  part  of  the  gay  life  of  the  capital.  He 
spent  money  like  a  drunken  sailor — luncheons, 
dinners,  wines,  theater  parties,  hired  automo 
biles  ;  all  were  his,  along  with  other  essentially 
luxurious  things.  He  reserved  a  special  table 
in  the  cafe  and  there  was  always  to  be  found 
a  choice  collection  of  men  of  Tyson's  type. 
Some  of  them  were  members  of  the  legislature, 
some  of  them  lobbyists,  some  of  them  were 
political  panhandlers — all  of  them  were  graft 
ers. 

Lewis  looked  upon  it  all  and  smiled. 

"Gad !  He's  going  in  with  both  feet,"  he  re 
marked  to  himself  cheerfully.  "He'll  strike 
bottom  pretty  soon.  I  wonder  how  he'll  ex 
plain  this  to  his  constituents?" 

Tyson  didn't  quite  understand  it,  but  he  had 
his  suspicions.    Passing  Jim  Warren  in  the  hall 
one  day,  he  winked  solemnly  and  inquired : 
211 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

"You've  found  the  key,  eh?" 

"What  key?"  asked  Jim  Warren. 

"The  key  to  prosperity." 

Jim  Warren  laughed  oddly. 

"I  smashed  in  the  door."  He  was  passing 
on  when  a  sudden  thought  occurred  to  him. 
"Sometime,  when  you  have  half  an  hour,  Ty 
son,  I'd  like  to  talk  with  you." 

"There's  no  time  like  the  present,"  Tyson 
responded.  "Come  on  in." 

He  led  Jim  Warren  into  his  own  apartments 
and  for  ten  minutes  they  talked  of  every 
thing  in  the  world  except  the  one  thing  Jim 
Warren  wanted  to  talk  of.  Obviously  he 
didn't  quite  know  how  to  get  at  it. 

"Spit  it  out,"  Tyson  invited  cordially.  There 
was  a  poker  game  in  abeyance  down  the  hall. 
"What's  eating  you?" 

"It's  this  matter  of  money  again,"  Jim  War 
ren  said  bluntly.  He  felt  the  blood  rush  to  his 
face.  "You  know  I  told  you  once  before  that 
I  wasn't  up  here  for  my  health,  no  more  than 
212 


you  are.  Now — let  me  in.  I've  got  two  big 
committees  over  here  and  I've  got  certain  pow 
ers  in  those  committees.  How  should  I  pro 
ceed  to  realize  on  them?  You  know  I'm  an 
amateur." 

Tyson  laughed. 

"Oh,  it's  easy  enough  to  get  if  you're  out  for 
that  sort  of  thing,"  he  remarked  carelessly. 

"But  how?"  Jim  Warren  insisted. 

"You're  a  member  of  Railroads,  aren't 
you?" 

Jim  Warren  nodded. 

"It  would  be  worth  while  to  two  or  three 
of  the  railroads  who  have  bills  coming  up  this 
session  to  slip  you  something  on  suspicion," 
Tyson  went  on.  "It  never  does  a  railroad 
harm  to  make  friends  among  the  people  who 
can  do  things  for  'em.  In  this  case  it  would 
be  a  sort  of  retaining  fee." 

"I  think  I  see,"  said  Jim  Warren  slowly. 

"Just  drop  a  casual  hint  some  day  in  the 
lobby  in  the  presence  of  the  right  man,"  Tyson 
213 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

went  on.  "You'll  find  coin  sticking  in  your 
coat-tail  pockets  before  you  can  get  home." 
He  laughed  again.  "Don't  ask  me  how  it  will 
get  there — I  don't  know." 

For  a  long  time  Jim  Warren  sat,  with  his 
sinewy  fingers  interlaced,  staring  at  Tyson. 

"I'm  chairman  of  Public  Structures,"  he  re 
marked  irrelevantly. 

"I  was  coming  to  that,"  said  Tyson.  He 
leaned  forward  and  tapped  Jim  Warren's  hand 
with  one  pudgy  finger.  "Now,  Warren,  you 
know  and  I  know  that  those  bills  I  put  in  for 
Tillinghast — those  recreation-pier  bills  and  the 
rest  of  'em — haven't  a  chance  to  pass.  You're 
making  the  fight  for  them  and  it  isn't  doing 
you  any  harm  in  that  end  of  the  state  any  more 
than  it  is  doing  Tillinghast  harm ;  but  we  know, 
all  of  us,  that  they  won't  pass.  However,  there 
are  a  whole  lot  of  contractors  and  steel  men, 
and  people  to  whom  that  work  would  have  to 
go  if  the  bills  did  pass,  who  don't  know  that 
they  haven't  a  chance.  I  dare  say  one  or  two  of 
214 


JIM    WARREN,    GRAFTER 

those  fellows  would  be  delighted  to  pass  over 
something  just  to  know  that  you  are  on  their 
side.  As  chairman  of  Public  Structures — don't 
you  see?" 

Again  Jim  Warren  was  silent  for  a  long 
time. 

"And  Lewis  would  come  across  again  with 
out  a  murmur  if  you  put  it  to  him,"  Tyson 
went  on. 

"Lewis!"  exclaimed  Jim  Warren.  "How 
did  you  know  that — " 

"He's  made  no  secret  of  it,"  Tyson  informed 
him  cheerfully.  He  told  the  lie  glibly.  It  was 
a  guess  and  it  had  gone  home.  "He's  put  a 
few  of  us  wise." 

Lewis!  The  bare  mention  of  the  name 
brought  a  flush  of  anger  to  Jim  Warren's  face. 
Some  day  there  would  come  a  reckoning  with 
Lewis.  His  steel-like  fingers  gripped  in  his 
palms. 

"Well,  say  Lewis  loosens  up  another  thou 
sand  or  so,"  he  remarked;  "say  the  railroads 
215 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

add  a  couple  of  thousand  and  the  contractors 
and  steel  men  still  another  thousand — what, 
after  that?" 

The  piggy  eyes  of  Representative  Tyson 
grew  large  in  his  astonishment. 

"Holy  Moses !  What  do  you  want  ?"  he  ex 
claimed.  "That's  a  fine  lot  of  pickings  for  a 
first-year  man — an  amateur." 

Jim  Warren's  teeth  closed  with  a  snap. 

"It's  a  piker's  game,"  he  declared.  "Do  you 
imagine  that  three  or  four  or  five  thousand 
dollars  is  of  any  use  to  me?  It's  the  big  game 
I'm  after.  That's  cigarette  money." 

"You'd  better  get  a  piece  of  lead  pipe  and 
go  into  it  right,"  Tyson  advised.  "I'm  telling 
you  how  the  game  is  worked.  You  wanted  to 
know.  Of  course,  if  it's  too  small  for  you,  I'm 
sorry,  but  I  can't  help  it." 

Suddenly  Jim  Warren  rose  and  paced  the 

length  of  the  apartment  half  a  dozen  times. 

Tyson  glanced  at  his  watch;  the  poker  game 

was  still  waiting.  Jim  Warren  stopped  in  front 

216 


JIM    WARREN,    GRAFTER 

of  him  abruptly.  There  was  an  unpleasant 
lowering  of  his  eyebrows,  a  hardening  of  his 
mouth,  a  narrowing  of  the  sky-blue  eyes,  as  he 
looked  down  on  his  fellow  member. 

"Why  not  play  the  big  game,  Tyson?"  he 
demanded. 

"Cough  it  up;  let's  hear  it." 

"There  happens  to  be  before  the  house  now 
a  bill  that  provides  for  the  building  of  a  public 
bridge  across  the  arm  of  the  ocean  which  cuts 
in  toward  the  capital  here — Sandringham," 
said  Jim  Warren. 

Tyson  nodded. 

"The  purpose  of  that  bridge  will  be  to 
shorten  the  present  wagon-road  that  goes 
around  the  water.  It  will  cut  off  about  two 
miles." 

Again  Tyson  nodded. 

"The  Q.  &  X.  Railroad  follows  the  wagon- 
road  now.  If  they  had  a  bridge  across  that 
arm  of  the  sea  it  would  cut  two  miles  off 
their  road  and  relieve  them  of  the  maintenance 
217 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

of  two  miles  of  railroad-bed  that  is  built  across 
the  marshes.  Do  you  follow  me?" 

"I  know  what  you're  talking  about,  yes." 

"Well?    Don't  you  see  it?" 

"See  what?" 

Jim  Warren's  calloused  forefinger  was 
thrust  into  Tyson's  face ;  his  eyes  were  ablaze. 

"Don't  you  see,  if  there  were  a  provision  in 
that  bill  which  would  allow  the  railroad  to  use 
that  bridge,  it  would  ultimately  save  them  the 
price  of  a  bridge?  They'll  have  to  build  one 
sooner  or  later." 

Slowly  Tyson's  rosebud  mouth  dropped  open 
in  pleased  astonishment;  suddenly  it  closed. 

"Oh,  but  you  couldn't  put  that  over."  The 
dreamer  was  awake.  "It's  a  fine  young  scheme, 
but—" 

"You  talk  like  an  idiot,  Tyson,"  Jim  War 
ren  declared  in  sudden  impatience.  "We 
wouldn't  have  to  put  anything  over.  All  we 
would  have  to  do  would  be  to  get  an  amend 
ment  with  this  provision  in  it  tacked  on  to  the 
218 


JIM    WARREN,    GRAFTER 

bill.  Then,  when  it  came  to  committee — do- 
you  see  now  ?" 

"No,"— helplessly. 

"I'm  chairman  of  Public  Structures — you 
are  a  member  of  Public  Structures.  The  bill 
comes  to  us  with  that  amendment  tacked  on. 
It  would  cost  the  Q.  &  X.  just  fifty  thousand 
dollars  for  the  committee  to  pass  upon  that 
bill,  with  the  amendment,  favorably.  We  don't 
care  what  they  do  with  it  after  it  leaves  the 
committee.  It  would  simply  cost  that  much 
to  get  it  through  the  committee.  Do  you  see 
now?" 

The  rotund  Mr.  Tyson  saw  suddenly;  he 
went  sheer  white  with  pleased  astonishment. 
The  superb  audacity  of  this  Jim  Warren  be 
numbed  him  with  delight.  He  rose,  gasping, 
and  whacked  his  fist  on  the  table. 

"And  they'd  do  it !"  he  declared.    He  waved 

his  fat  hands  in  the  air.     "They're  easy  down 

there  anyway.     If  they  saw  a  chance,  even  a 

remote  chance,  for  that  scheme  to  get  by  they'd 

219 


THE   HIGH    HAND 


do  it.    They'd  fall  for  it.    You're  on !    Oh,  a 


pippin 


A  smile  grew  upon  Jim  Warren's  face — a 
hard,  unpleasant  smile. 

"Fifty  thousand  dollars !"  he  said.  "Twen 
ty-five  thousand  for  me,  ten  for  you,  and  the 
rest — split  it  up  as  you  like." 

"It  would  take  months  to  do  it,  but  it's  worth 
it."  Tyson's  little  soul  fairly  shriveled  with 
envy  of  this  gaunt,  red-headed  man,  who 
rigged  schemes  like  that  out  of  the  ambient 
air.  "I'm  with  you !" 

"Well,  it's  going  to  take  some  work — get 
on  the  job,"  Jim  Warren  directed  curtly. 
"You  know  the  ropes;  I  don't.  You  see,  Ty 
son,  this  thing  of  holding  up  people  for  five 
hundred  here,  and  a  thousand  there,  and  two 
thousand  yonder,  is  a  piker's  game.  I'll  play 
the  big  game  or  not  at  all." 

Tyson's  exuberance  fled  as  another  thought 
came  to  him ;  his  fat  face  grew  grave. 

"By  the  way,"  he  queried,  "do  you  happen 
220 


JIM    WARREN,    GRAFTER 

to  know  that  Franques  would  be  the  man  we 
would  have  to  deal  with  in  Q.  &  X.  ?  He  did 
them  some  favor  at  some  time;  and  after  you 
passed  him  up  they  took  him  in." 

"Well?"  Jim  Warren  demanded  belliger 
ently.  "Didn't  I  make  a  monkey  of  Franques 
once?  I  can  do  it  again." 

During  the  next  four  days  Jim  Warren's 
bank  account  grew  some  forty-five  hundred 
dollars.  Tyson's  conjecture  that  the  railroads 
and  a  few  big  contractors  would  drop  a  few 
crumbs  in  Jim  Warren's  hands  just  for  the 
sake  of  making  a  friend  of  him,  proved  cor 
rect.  .  .  .  On  the  fifth  day  a  messenger 
brought  a  note  to  Jim  Warren's  suite.  He 
glanced  at  the  superscription  and  it  startled 
him;  he  opened  the  envelope  with  feverish 
fingers : 


"Mv  DEAR  MR.  WARREN  : 

"At  last  I  have  come  to  see  what  you  meant. 
I  owe  you  a  thousand  apologies.    Will  you  call 

221 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

to-morrow  afternoon  at  four  and  allow  me  to 
make  them  in  person  ? 

"Sincerely, 

"EDNA  TILLINGHAST." 


Jim  Warren  was  dazed  a  little;  the  words 
were  jumbled  together  meaninglessly.  After 
a  long  time  the  note  fluttered  to  the  floor,  Jim 
Warren's  eyes  closed  as  though  he  were  in 
pain  and  he  dropped  back  limply  into  a  chair, 
his  face  in  his  hands. 

"God !    What  have  I  done !"  he  said. 


222 


CHAPTER   XXIII 

THE  GREAT  CHANGE 

WHITE  and  haggard  and  gaunt,  Jim 
Warren  stalked  back  and  forth  across 
the  drawing-room  as  Edna  talked.  His  hands 
were  clenched  savagely,  his  teeth  crushed  to 
gether.  From  time  to  time  he  turned  flatly  and 
looked  down  upon  this  woman  with  the  misty 
eyes.  She  was  apologizing  to  him;  he  owed 
the  apologies,  not  she !  Occasionally  there  was 
a  little  catch  in  her  voice,  a  half  sob,  as  she 
talked;  then  she  recovered  herself  and  went 
on  bravely. 

"There  were  days  and  days  when  I  merely 
hated  you  for  what  you  had  said,"  she  was 
saying  in  a  low,  tense  voice.  "I  thought  your 
innuendos  were  cowardly ;  I  told  you  they  were 
cowardly — and  all  the  time  you  were  merely 
223 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

trying  to  make  me  understand.  I  couldn't 
bring  myself  to  believe  that  this  man  to  whom 
I  had  given  so  much  was  anything  but  what 
I  had  pictured  him  in  my  own  foolish  dreams. 
When  finally  I  did  come  to  understand  who  he 
was  and  what  he  was" — she  raised  her  moist 
eyes  pleadingly — "you  can  imagine  what  it 
meant  to  me.  Every  shred  of  affection  I  had 
ever  cherished  for  him  died  in  that  instant — 
the  hate  that  I  had  directed  toward  you  was 
turned  upon  him."  She  shuddered  a  little. 
"He  had  not  only  deceived  me,  lied  to  me,  but 
he  was  a  thief,  a  traitor,  a  criminal !" 

Jim  Warren  strode  toward  her  impetuously ; 
she  extended  her  hands  defensively. 

"Never  mind  all  this,"  he  said  harshly.  "It 
doesn't — " 

"Please  hear  me  to  the  end,"  she  begged. 
"I  suppose  you  knew  that  I  was  engaged  to 
this  man ;  and  yet" — she  spoke  very  softly — "it 
was  hardly  love,  the  feeling  I  had  for  him.  It 
was  rather  admiration  for  what  the  man  had 
224 


THE   GREAT    CHANGE 

done.  I  had  no  way  of  knowing — I  didn't 
even  dream  of  the  manner  in  which  he  had 
gained  his  power.  I  only  knew  he  had  it ;  and 
woman  is  prone  to  worship  the  strong.  Be 
sides,  he  was  going  to  make  my  father  gov 
ernor;  he  had  already  made  him  speaker."  She 
paused  suddenly  and  her  limpid  eyes  reflected 
her  agony  and  shame.  "You  understand,  don't 
you?" 

"I  think  I  do."  Again  Jim  Warren  strode 
toward  her;  again  she  stopped  him. 

"When  finally  comprehension  came,"  she 
continued  in  a  strained,  thin  voice,  "I  went  to 
my  father  and  explained  that  the  marriage 
would  be — would  be  impossible." 

A  great  gladness  pulsed  in  Jim  Warren's 
heart,  softened  the  harshness  of  his  face, 
melted  the  steeliness  of  his  sky-blue  eyes. 

"The  rest  of  it  is  ugly — ugly!"  she  said 
faintly. 

"Please  stop,"  Jim  Warren  urged. 

"You  know  the  ambition  he  has  ?  He  wants 
225 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

to  be  governor  and  after  that  United  States 
senator?  If  I  should  break  my  pledge  to  Mr. 
— Mr. — him — it  would  mean  that  all  his  power 
would  be  directed  against  my  father  to  defeat 
him.  My  father  saw  it  instantly  and  pointed 
it  out  to  me.  He,  too — my  own  father — had 
deceived  me;  but  what  could  I  do?"  She 
stopped.  Jim  Warren  started  to  say  some 
thing.  She  went  on  hastily:  "If  my  engage 
ment  were  allowed  to  stand  it  would  hold  his 
support  to  my  father."  Her  face  flamed  sud 
denly.  "You  see  I'm  goods — I'm  chattels — 
they're  bargaining  with  me !" 

Jim  Warren's  fingers  closed  and  unclosed 
spasmodically.  He  would  have  given  some 
thing,  almost  anything,  at  that  instant  to  have 
had  them  about  the  fat  neck  of  the  honorable 
speaker. 

"Finally  I  agreed  to  my  father's  wishes — I 

could  do  nothing  else,"  Edna  resumed.     "The 

betrothal  is  to  stand  for  the  present,  but  I  am 

going  away — going  away  to-morrow,   to  be 

226 


THE    GREAT    CHANGE 

gone  for  months.  I  couldn't  bear  to  remain 
here  and  live  the  lie  that  I  should  have  to  live. 
.  .  .  I  felt  that  I  must  make  you  understand 
before  I  go.  I  wanted  you  to  know  that  I 
know  who  and  what  this  man  is.  I  want  to 
apologize  to  you  and  I  want  to  thank  you." 
She  sighed  wearily.  "That  is  all.  You  under 
stand  now?" 

How  trivial,  how  pitifully  inconsequential  it 
all  was  compared  to  the  confession  he — Jim 
Warren — had  to  make!  She  had  believed  in 
the  man  whom  she  was  to  marry.  It  was  just 
and  right  that  she  should  believe  in  him.  But 
he,  Jim  Warren —  He  drew  a  chair  up  oppo 
site  to  her  and  sat  down,  looking  straight  into 
her  eyes. 

"I  want  you  to  listen  to  me  and  I  want  you 
to  understand  every  word  I  say,"  he  com 
manded.  He  spoke  rapidly,  feverishly.  "I 
want  you  to  understand  that  it  is  I,  and  not 
you,  who  should  make  apologies." 

She  drew  back  a  little,  vaguely  alarmed  at 
227 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

the  earnestness  of  his  manner,  at  the  directness 
of  his  gaze.    He  seemed  not  to  notice. 

"I  went  into  this  political  game,  or  blundered 
into  it,  with  a  definite  idea,"  he  ran  on  mo 
notonously.  "That  idea  came  before  anything 
else,  before  it  had  ever  occurred  to  me  that  it 
would  be  practicable  to  put  it  to  the  test.  It 
was  based  on  the  exact  knowledge  that  the  po 
litical  game,  generally  speaking,  is  played  with 
marked  cards.  Why  should  not  a  clever  man 
who  was  honest — that  was  the  first  requisite, 
honesty! — why  should  not  a  clever  man  who 
was  honest  step  into  the  game,  mark  his  cards 
to  suit  himself  and  play  it  out  with  them?  In 
other  words,  bring  himself  down  to  their  level, 
match  them  trick  for  trick,  and  go  them  one 
better !  In  the  end  it  would  all  be,  of  course, 
for  the  sake  of  decency  and  honesty  and  the 
public  good.  There  was  a  bare  chance  that 
such  a  thing  could  be  done;  and  if  it  could  be 
done  it  would  purge  the  state  capitol  as  no 
other  thing  in  all  the  world  would. 
228 


THE    GREAT    CHANGE 

"Lewis  was  the  big  boss  in  my  end  of  the 
state.  I  went  to  see  him  in  my  effort  to  break 
in.  I  didn't  see  him,  but  I  did  see  Franques, 
his  henchman,  and  made  a  deal  with  him  that 
fitted  perfectly  with  the  big  idea.  Briefly,  he 
was  to  betray  Lewis  to  me — and  he  did.  Then, 
to  clench  the  big  idea,  I  deposited  a  sealed 
packet  in  a  certain  bank  here  in  Sandringham. 
I  was  elected.  I  used  Franques  as  long  as  he 
was  useful  to  me,  then  dropped  him.  In  polit 
ical  parlance,  I  double-crossed  him.  That  act 
of  ingratitude — and  it  was  that,  nothing  else — 
was  the  first  step  toward  the  carrying  out  of 
the  big  idea.  It  was  necessary  and — and  ugly, 
as  you  say." 

He  stopped  and  his  voice  dropped  a  little. 

"Meanwhile  our  paths  in  life — yours  and 
mine — crossed  and  recrossed ;  and  for  political 
reasons  it  was  necessary  for  Lewis  to  be  decent 
to  me  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  I  had  smashed 
his  power  in  his  own  district.  .  .  .  Then  I 
learned  you  were  betrothed  to  him.  .  .  . 
229 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

Why,  I  don't  know — but  I  wanted  to  make  you 
understand  what  manner  of  man  he  was;  I 
didn't  believe  you  knew.  That  was  the  day  I 
offended  you  so  grievously.  During  the  days 
following  that,  when  you  were  hating  me,  you 
were  constantly  in  my  thoughts.  I  was  trying 
to  decide  for  myself  whether  you  knew  or  did 
not  know  what  Lewis  was.  I  couldn't  reconcile 
your  attitude  with  the  bald  fact  that  the  news 
papers  had  been  full  of  Lewis'  exposure.  .  .  . 
It  was  a  long  time  before  I  reached  a  conclu 
sion." 

"And  that  conclusion — was — "  she  queried 
softly. 

"Forgive  me,"  said  Jim  Warren.  "That  con 
clusion  was  that  you  did  know,  that  you  must 
know,  who  and  what  Lewis  was;  and  the  arro 
gance  of  wealth  and  power  had  made  you  cal 
lous  to  it.  In  other  words,  you  knew  and  didn't 
care.  Your  attitude  left  me  nothing  else,"  he 
pleaded  desperately  in  self-extenuation. 

"Please  go  on,"  she  said  coldly. 
230 


THE    GREAT    CHANGE 

"You  see  you  owed  me  no  apology — I  owed 
every  apology  to  you.  I'm  glad  you've  given 
me  the  opportunity  of  making  them." 

"Your  conclusion  was  inevitable,"  she  re 
marked,  "just  as  mine  had  been.  I  under 
stand." 

Jim  Warren  rose  and  again  he  stalked  back 
and  forth  across  the  room.  Would  he  go  on? 
Would  he  tell  her  all  of  it?  After  a  moment 
he  dropped  down  in  front  of  her  again. 

"I  knew  you  belonged  to  another  man,"  he 
began  bluntly;  "and  when  I  asked  myself  why 
I  had  taken  the  trouble  to  try  to  make  you 
understand  what  manner  of  man  he  was,  there 
was  no  answer.  After  all,  it  was  none  of  my 
business.  I  tried  to  make  myself  think  that; 
I  couldn't.  Then,  one  day — the  day  you  waved 
your  handkerchief  to  me  from  the  gallery — 
one  day  I  knew.  You  were  necessary  to  me; 
you  were — " 

"Please  don't;  please!"  she  cried  despair 
ingly. 

231 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

She  extended  her  hands;  he  crumpled  them 
in  his  own,  like  rose-leaves.  Suddenly  he  let 
them  go  and  rose. 

"Whatever  you  were,  honest  or  dishonest,  I 
wanted  you,"  he  went  on  violently.  "I  was 
poor  and  without  position.  It  was  necessary  to 
have  both  to  win  you.  In  that  instant  I  think 
I  must  have  gone  mad.  I  forgot  honor  and 
honesty;  I  forgot  my  pledges  to  the  boys  at 
Warburton ;  I  forgot  the  big  idea ;  I  forgot  all 
else  in  the  world  but  you.  It  would  be  easy 
to  get  money  with  the  temptations  about  me; 
I  could  force  myself  into  a  position  in  the  game 
I  was  playing;  I — " 

"You  don't  know  what  you  are  saying!" 
There  was  a  sob  in  her  voice.  "You  must  not ! 
You  must  not !" 

"It  was  easy  to  get  money,"  he  continued  re 
lentlessly.  "I  started  to  get  it.  I  got  it.  Here, 
there,  everywhere,  it  was  to  be  had  for  the 
stretching  out  of  a  hand."  His  voice  suddenly 
softened.  "I  was  going  to  win  you  from  Lewis 
232 


THE    GREAT    CHANGE 

as  Lewis  had  won  you  in  the  first  place — by 
selling  myself  to  the  highest  bidder,  by  crook 
edness,  by  thieving,  by  treason." 

Edna  sank  forward,  with  her  head  in  her 
hands.  She  was  moaning. 

"I  have  no  defense  save  that  I  loved  you  and 
wanted  you,"  Jim  Warren  went  on  very  quietly. 
"Now,  I've  taken  the  step.  I'm  a  crook  like  the 
rest  of  them.  I  have  taken  bribes.  I'm  all 
that  I've  ever  said  of  any  man."  He  stopped, 
waiting  for  her  to  speak.  "It  seemed  odd  to 
me  that  the  purest,  sweetest  thing  of  my  life 
was  to  be  won  by  dishonesty;  but  I  didn't 
hesitate." 

For  a  long  time  there  was  silence,  broken 
only  by  the  girl's  sobs.  Jim  Warren  stood  mo 
tionless,  looking  down  upon  the  glory  of  her 
hair  with  drawn,  white  face.  At  last  she  strug 
gled  to  her  feet  and  faced  him,  her  eyes  swim 
ming. 

"You  must,"  and  she  laid  a  slender  hand  on 
his  arm — "You  must  return  all  that  has  come 
233 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

to  you  dishonestly — you  must  play  the  game  as 
you  intended  to  play  it." 

"You  care,  then?" 

"Whether  I  care  or  not  is  of  no  consequence. 
Unwittingly  I  have  caused  you  to  become — be 
come  dishonest;  now,  for  my  sake,  that  you 
understand  I  am  honest,  you  must  be  honest." 

Jim  Warren  passed  one  hand  across  his 
brow.  "Play  the  game  as  you  intended  to  play 
it!"  she  had  said.  Through  the  shame  of  it 
all  he  saw  a  way.  The  big  idea!  His  path 
lay  straight  as  the  arrow  flies!  The  sealed 
packet  in  the  vault!  As  it  all  came  to  him — 
the  way  to  save  himself — his  face  cleared,  and 
for  a  scant  instant  there  was  a  suggestion  of 
that  haunting  grin  on  his  lips.  "Play  the  game 
as  he  intended  to  play  it !"  Hang  it,  he  would ; 
he  was  playing  it  that  way ! 

"And  understand,  please,"  she  was  pleading 
in  a  small,  weak  voice,  "that  I  am  beyond  your 
reach.     I  am  still  betrothed  to  another  man. 
You  must  do  all  this  yourself." 
234 


THE    GREAT    CHANGE 

His  blood  flamed  and  swiftly  his  sinewy 
arms  enfolded  the  shrinking  figure.  She  strug 
gled  to  free  herself. 

"I'll  be  honest,"  he  said  harshly.  "I'll  play 
the  game  as  I  intended  to  play  it,  but  you  must 
believe  in  me — come  what  will,  happen  what 
may,  you  must  believe  in  me.  Say  you  will! 
Say  you  will !" 

"I  will,"  she  promised. 

For  an  instant  she  lay  there  quiescent,  over 
come  by  the  violence  of  this  man ;  and  a  thrill 
of  peace  and  content  passed  over  her. 

Jim  Warren,  going  down  the  front  steps, 
met  Lewis  coming  up. 

"Hello!"  Jim  Warren  greeted  bruskly. 

Lewis  nodded  and  stood  motionless  on  the 
steps  until  the  sturdy  figure  of  the  maker  of 
plows  vanished  around  the  corner.  Then  he 
rang  the  bell. 


235 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

BIG   STAKES 

WHATEVER  ideas  of  honesty  and  loy 
alty  to  the  trust  of  his  constituents  may 
have  been  knocking  about  in  Jim  Warren's 
head,  they  were  not  in  evidence  during  the  next 
two  months.  Instead,  with  the  faithful  Tyson 
at  his  elbow,  he  was  going  around  with  his  hand 
out.  The  old-time  grin  had,  returned  to  his 
face  and  settled  apparently  for  a  long  stay. 
There  was  a  gouge  here,  and  a  holdup  there, 
and  the  diplomatic  turning  of  a  doubtful  trick 
yonder.  Tyson's  function  was  to  supply  expert 
advice  as  to  where  it  was  to  be  had ;  Jim  War 
ren  furnished  the  boldness  and  audacity  neces 
sary  to  get  it.  Tyson  was  never  so  scared  and 
pleased  in  his  life  as  he  was  during  these  two 
months.  He  didn't  know  there  was  so  much 
236 


BIG    STAKES 

money  in  the  world.  And  the  big  trick  was  yet 
to  come — the  deal  with  the  Q.  &  X.  Railroad 
for  that  bridge  privilege.  It  was  shaping  up 
nicely. 

Rumors  of  corruption  in  the  legislature  flew 
thick  and  fast — and  Jim  Warren's  name  always 
led  all  the  rest.  At  last  it  came  to  be  an  open 
secret  that  he  would  take  anything  that  wasn't 
nailed  down.  He  proved  that  late  one  after 
noon  when  he  strolled  unannounced  into  a 
committee-room  where  four  men  were  busily 
engaged  in  counting  money.  They  thought  the 
door  was  locked. 

"Hello,  boys !"  Jim  Warren  greeted  cheerily. 
"Cutting  up  something?  Don't  I  get  in?" 

It  wasn't  Jim  Warren's  committee,  and  he 
had  nothing  to  do  with  any  bill  that  had  come 
or  might  come  before  it,  but  he  picked  up  a 
couple  of  hundred  there.  Lewis  heard  of  it  and 
grinned.  This  red-headed  paragon  of  virtue 
was  a  wizard  when  it  came  to  getting  his  share ; 
and  every  dollar  he  took  placed  him  more 
237 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

surely  in  Lewis'  grip.  Meanwhile  he  had  no 
complaint,  because  Jim  Warren  was  living  up 
to  his  compact  so  far  as  the  fight  in  the  Public 
Structures,  which  had  for  its  ultimate  pur 
pose  the  strengthening  of  Tillinghast  in  the 
doubtful  end  of  the  state,  was  concerned. 
Those  bills  for  recreation  piers  and  the  rest 
of  it  had  been  jammed  in  as  a  political  move; 
and  here  was  a  man  who  had  fought  for  them 
so  hard  and  so  consistently  that  now  they  stood, 
at  least,  a  bare  chance  of  passing.  All  of  which 
reflected  great  glory  upon  his  own  puppet, 
Tillinghast. 

Jim  Warren  was  sitting  alone  at  his  private 
table  in  the  hotel  cafe  late  one  afternoon,  when 
Tyson  came  in  hurriedly.  Victory  was  written 
all  over  his  fat  face.  Intuitively  Jim  Warren 
knew  what  it  meant — the  Q.  &  X.  had  fallen 
for  the  big  deal — the  money  was  in  sight. 
Tyson  sat  down. 

"We  put  it  over,"  he  ejaculated  in  a  hoarse 
whisper. 

238 


BIG    STAKES 

"Good.  Franques  came  to  see  it  our  way, 
eh?" 

"I  told  him  we  were  ready  to  report  on  the 
bridge  bill  when  the — er — "  Tyson  made  a 
motion  of  counting  money.  "And  that  will  be 
to-morrow  morning  at  ten  o'clock." 

"Where?" 

"In  your  rooms — here." 

That  was  all  that  was  said  about  it.  After 
a  while  Jim  Warren  glanced  at  the  calendar. 
June  third,  it  said. 

"By  the  way,"  he  queried  carelessly,  "what 
date  are  the  primaries  to  elect  delegates  to  the 
state  convention?" 

"July  twenty-first,"  Tyson  replied.  "That'll 
be  about  two  weeks  after  the  session  closes." 
He  tapped  Jim  Warren  on  the  wrist  meaningly. 
"You've  done  an  awful  lot  for  Tillinghast.  It'll 
be  a  walk-over  for  him.  It  just  occurs  to  me 
that  he  might  stand  for  a  little — er — touch?" 

"Forget  it,"  said  Jim  Warren. 

Properly  abashed,  and  recognizing  the  pres- 

239 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

ence  of  a  superior  mind,  Tyson  dropped  the 
subject.  He  went  back  to  Franques. 

"Do  you  know,  I'm  surprised  that  Franques 
hasn't  got  it  in  for  you  good  and  plenty?"  he 
remarked.  "Instead  of  being  sore  at  the  way 
you  double-crossed  him,  he's  mild  as  milk." 

Jim  Warren  leaned  back  in  his  chair  and 
stared  at  Tyson  steadily  through  the  cloud  of 
cigar  smoke. 

"He's  framing  up  something  to  hand  me," 
he  remarked;  "but  don't  let  it  disturb  you — 
he  won't  get  away  with  it."  He  scribbled  his 
name  on  the  check.  "And  don't  let  that  idea 
that  Tillinghast  will  have  a  walk-over  in  the 
state  convention  run  away  with  you.  He  won't 
even  be  a  candidate  before  that  convention." 

"He  won't — what !"  exclaimed  Tyson. 

"You  may  bet  all  the  money  you  want  on 
that  at  any  odds  you  like,"  Jim  Warren  assured 
him  with  a  yawn.  "He  hasn't  a  chance  in  the 
world." 

While  Jim  Warren  made  his  way  to  his 
240 


BIG   STAKES 

rooms  Tyson  sat  still  and  did  some  heavy  think 
ing.  Once  in  his  rooms,  Jim  Warren  crashed 
the  door  to  behind  him  and  locked  it,  after 
which  he  flung  his  cigar  away  and  dropped  into 
an  arm-chair. 

"How  tired  I  am  of  it  all!"  he  exclaimed 
suddenly.  "It  seems  to  me  I  haven't  drawn  a 
clean  breath  in  generations."  Then  evidently 
the  tenor  of  his  thoughts  changed,  for  his  eyes 
softened  and  he  smiled  a  little.  "She'll  be  com 
ing  back  soon." 

There  was  a  look  of  grave  concern  on  Jim 
Warren's  freckled  face  an  hour  or  so  later  as 
he  went  up  the  steps  of  D wight  Tillinghast's 
home.  The  speaker  received  him  effusively. 

"I've  come  up  here,  Tillinghast,  to  do  you  a 
favor,"  Jim  Warren  began  abruptly.  "I  don't 
know  just  how  you're  going  to  take  it." 

"Do  me  a  favor?"  Tillinghast  repeated,  puz 
zled. 

"You  remember,  when  you  first  approached 
me  in  this  matter  of  your  candidacy  for  gov- 
241 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

ernor,"  Jim  Warren  continued,  "I  told  you  I'd 
just  as  soon  see  you  governor  as  any  man  I 
knew,  except  myself." 

"I  remember,  yes.     An  excellent  joke!" 

"Now,  I'm  going  to  ask  you — I'm  going  to 
beg  of  you — not  to  be  a  candidate  before  the 
state  convention." 

Tillinghast's  puffy  eyes  grew  wide  and 
wider ;  the  color  rushed  to  his  face,  then  ebbed 
away. 

"Not  be  a  candidate!  Not  be  a  candidate!" 
he  blustered.  "Not  be  a  candidate!  Why?" 

"Because,"  and  Jim  Warren's  voice  was  per 
fectly  level  and  calm,  "I'm  going  to  be  a  candi 
date,  and  I  want  to  save  you  from  the  ignominy 
of  defeat." 

The  speaker's  fat  lips  shook  with  the  torrent 
of  words  that  rushed  up  for  utterance. 

"If  you'll  listen  to  me  just  a  minute,"  Jim 

Warren  continued  in  the  same  quiet  tone,  "I'll 

say  all  I  have  to  say,  and  you  can  think  it  over 

at  your  leisure.     I'd  hate  to  have  to  beat  you 

242 


BIG    STAKES 

and  I  would  beat  you — I  can  beat  any  man — 
and  there  are  other  reasons" — a  pair  of  limpid 
eyes  swam  across  his  inner  vision — "other  rea 
sons  you  don't  know,  which  make  me  want  to 
let  you  out  gracefully — in  other  words,  permit 
you  to  withdraw  your  name  now.  I  won't 
undertake  to  explain;  I'm  merely  telling  you 
the  facts." 

The  words  came  then,  a  torrent  of  them,  dis 
jointed,  sputtering,  incoherent.  After  the  first 
rush  they  took  form.  Invectives  there  were 
and  charges  of  grafting,  and  threats  of  ex 
posure.  Jim  Warren,  with  no  trace  of  emotion, 
listened  to  the  end. 

"I  was  afraid,"  he  said  regretfully,  "that  you 
wouldn't  understand.  Believe  me" — he  was 
quite  in  earnest — "I'm  trying  to  do  you  a 
favor." 

Sharp  at  ten  o'clock  Franques  came  in.    He 
remained  in  Jim  Warren's  rooms  for  three- 
quarters  of  an  hour,  then  went  away  with  his 
243 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

evil  eyes  agleam  and  his  thin,  pale  lips  writh 
ing  in  a  smile.  In  an  inner  pocket  he  carried 
Jim  Warren's  receipt  for  fifty  thousand  dol 
lars  !  His  lank,  dusty-looking  figure  had  barely 
vanished  down  the  hall  when  Tyson,  eager  and 
greedy,  came  in. 

"Did  you  get  it  ?"  he  demanded  breathlessly. 

"Yes.  Now,  look  here,  Tyson,"  and  there 
was  a  commanding,  businesslike  note  in  Jim 
Warren's  voice;  "listen  to  me  just  a  minute. 
This  is  your  cue  to  get  out,  vamoose,  skip,  dis 
appear.  I  got  it  all  right,  but  if  I'm  not  wrong, 
I'll  be  in  the  hands  of  the  police  before  night. 
I'm  letting  you  out  because  you  have  made 
many  things  possible  for  me;  now  vanish !" 

Tyson  stared  at  him  in  bewilderment. 

"What're  you  trying  to  do — bilk  me?"  he  de 
manded  rebelliously. 

"I'm  trying  to  keep  you  out  of  jail!  The 
police,  man!  Don't  you  see?  It's  all  been  a 
big  scheme !  There'll  be  hell  to  pay  before  the 
day's  over !" 

244 


BIG    STAKES 

Fright  laid  hold  of  the  heels  of  Representa 
tive  Tyson  suddenly  and  he  fell  to  running  with 
all  his  might.  Jim  Warren  sped  down  the 
stairs  and  leaped  into  a  taxicab. 

"Sandringham  National  Bank — quick!"  he 
commanded. 

It  was  shortly  after  eleven  o'clock  when  Jim 
Warren  strolled  into  the  legislative  chamber 
and,  after  one  look  around,  went  on  to  the  com 
mittee-room.  The  explosion  would  come  there. 
He  dropped  into  a  chair  and  was  sitting  drum 
ming  idly  on  the  long  table  when  the  door  was 
thrown  open  violently  and  Lewis  came  in. 

"Hello,  Lewis!"  he  greeted.  "I  was  waiting 
for  you." 

For  a  moment  Lewis  hovered  around  the 
door,  glaring  at  him ;  then,  by  an  effort,  he  re 
gained  control  of  himself.  When  he  spoke  it 
was  a  sort  of  purring,  with  a  dangerous  under 
tone. 

"Tillinghast  called  me  up  last  night  and  told 
me  of  his  little  conversation  with  you,"  he  said. 
245 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

"Yes?" 

"You  will  not  be  a  candidate  for  governor 
and  you  will  support  Tillinghast!" 

"Your  statement  is  slightly  twisted,"  Jim 
Warren  taunted.  "I  will  be  a  candidate  for 
governor  and  I  will  not  support  Tillinghast." 

"In  your  campaign  against  me,  Warren,  you 
took  particular  pains  to  identify  me  with  the 
interests ;  you  stamped  it  upon  the  public  mind 
and  burned  it  in."  Lewis  was  sneering.  "It 
was  a  job  well  done.  That  stamp  is  inerad 
icable." 

"It  is."  Jim  Warren  grinned. 

"You  made  a  dirty  campaign  of  it  and  won 
as  an  honest  man." 

"I  did." 

"And  in  the  last  two  or  three  months  you've 
been  grafting  right  and  left.  The  first  man  you 
took  a  bribe  from  was  this  very  man  whom 
you  had  stamped  with  the  mark  of  the  beast — 
myself!" 

"Yes." 

246 


BIG    STAKES 

"You  got  money  from  me  on  three  occasions 
and  you  signed  a  note  each  time !  Now  do  you 
understand  why  you  will  not  be  a  candidate  for 
governor  ?" 

"You  mean  you'll  make  the  notes  public? 
Give  them  to  the  newspapers?" 

"I  mean  just  that — and  don't  think  that  any 
idea  of  saving  myself  will  stop  me.  I  coaxed 
you  into  taking  that  first  money  just  to  get  this 
grip  on  you.  You  have  been  tricky,  Warren 
— I'll  meet  you,  trick  for  trick!" 

For  some  reason,  which  was  not  apparent, 
Jim  Warren  seemed  seized  of  a  sudden  desire 
to  laugh. 

"And  you're  determined  to  make  those  notes 
public  if  I  insist  on  being  a  candidate?"  he 
queried. 

"I  am." 

"Have  you  got  'em  with  you?" 

"I  have." 

"Excuse  me  just  a  second,  won't  you?"  Jim 
Warren  stepped  outside  the  door;  reappearing 
247 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

almost  immediately.    "Now,  if  you'll  wait  just 
a  moment,  please,"  he  requested  courteously. 

He  sat  down  and  began  drumming  on  the 
table  again.  Lewis  regarded  him  in  silence — 
a  silence  he  couldn't  have  explained.  Two, 
three  minutes  passed ;  and  then  came  a  hurried 
shuffling  of  feet  outside  the  door. 

"Now,  Lewis,  you'll  have  to  make  those 
notes  public,"  Jim  Warren  declared.  "I'm  still 
a  candidate." 

Came  a  knock  at  the  door ;  Lewis  started. 

"Who  is  that  ?"  he  demanded  nervously. 

"The  newspaper  men,"  said  Jim  Warren. 
"Come  in,  boys." 

They  came  in,  a  dozen  of  them,  staring  curi 
ously — first  at  Jim  Warren,  then  at  Lewis,  sud 
denly  gone  white. 

"Lock  the  door,  boys,"  Jim  Warren  directed. 
"Some  one  might  want  to  come  in — or  go  out. 
Mr.  Lewis  has  a  few  words  to  say  to  you."  He 
turned  upon  him.    "Or  shall  I  ?" 
248 


BIG    STAKES 

"Are  you  mad,  man  ?  Are  you  mad  ?"  That 
was  all. 

"I'll  say  it  for  him,"  the  maker  of  plows  vol 
unteered.  "It  isn't  necessary  for  me  to  tell 
you  boys  how  I  whaled  the  life  out  of  Lewis  to 
come  here.  That's  history — you  all  know  it. 
My  platform  consisted  of  one  word — Honesty. 
Lewis  is  the  accredited  representative  of  the 
combined  interests.  Now  he  is  pleased  to  say 
that  on  three  separate  and  distinct  occasions  he 
has  bribed  me.  Further,  he  has  certain  notes 
in  his  pockets  with  which  he  undertakes  to 
prove  that  he  bribed  me.  He  suggested  that  he 
would  like  to  give  this  matter  to  the  newspa 
pers,  and  I  sent  for  you.  I  dare  say  he'll  be 
glad  to  produce  the  notes?" 

Stripped  of  the  veneer  that  covered  his  sor 
did  nakedness,  taunted,  mocked,  bullyragged, 
Lewis  sprang  to  his  feet,  his  face  purple. 

"So  help  me  God,  Jim  Warren,  I'll  send  you 
to  jail  if  it's  the  last  thing  I  ever  do!"  he 
249 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

shouted.  "Yes,  I  have  the  notes.  Here  they 
are.  Take  'em;  read  'em.  Get  a  line  on  the 
particular  brand  of  honesty  this  man  deals  in." 

Twelve  reporters  fell  upon  those  three  slips 
of  paper  and  twenty-four  eyes  devoured  them. 

"Of  course  you  deny  that  you  signed  these?" 
one  of  the  reporters  asked  of  Jim  Warren. 

"No;  I  don't  deny  it,"  he  replied  in  a  tone  of 
surprise.  "I  did  sign  'em.  That's  my  signa 
ture.  I  got  the  money.  He  bribed  me." 

"Then  what — "  The  press  collectively 
scratched  its  head  in  perplexity. 

Came  another  knocking  at  the  door.  Jim 
Warren  addressed  the  newspaper  man  nearest 
the  door: 

"Will  you  please  let  in  Mr.  Franques  and  the 
officer  with  him?" 

"Officer !"    Lewis  was  chalky  white. 

"For  me — not  you,"  said  Jim  Warren. 

The  door  swung  back  and  Franques,  his 
swarthy  face  contorted  by  malignant  hate, 
came  into  the  room.  Behind  him  was  a  plain- 
250 


BIG   STAKES 

clothes  man.  Franques  thrust  a  claw-like  finger 
in  Jim  Warren's  face. 

"James  Palmer  Warren,"  said  the  officer, 
"I  arrest  you  on  the  specific  charge  of  accept 
ing  a  bribe  of  fifty  thousand  dollars  from  one 
Franques." 

Twelve  live  newspaper  men  showed  an  un 
easy  disposition  to  fly. 

"Just  a  minute,  boys,"  Jim  Warren  requested 
pleasantly.  "I  want  to  ask  you  to  go  by  the 
Sandringham  National  Bank  with  us."  He 
grinned.  "Take  my  word  for  it,  boys,  this 
story  hasn't  started  yet." 


251 


CHAPTER  XXV 

THE   BIG   IDEA 

IT  was  a  strange  gathering  in  the  sturdy  steel- 
barred  vaults  of  the  Sandringham  National 
Bank.  A  dozen  reporters  there  were;  and  Jim 
Warren,  the  maker  of  plows ;  and  Francis  Ev- 
erard  Lewis,  and  Franques,  erstwhile  his 
henchman;  and  the  plain-clothes  man;  and 
President  Chisholm  of  the  bank,  with  those 
two  clerks  whose  affidavits  had  been  attached 
to  the  sealed  packet  at  the  time  it  was  placed  in 
Box  1313.  Lewis'  liver  had  turned  white 
within  him — the  craven  had  come  through; 
Franques  was  as  inscrutable  as  marble ;  the  re 
porters  keen,  eager,  tense — and  Jim  Warren, 
pallid,  but  calm,  assured  and  grinning.  As  for 
the  plain-clothes  man,  the  delay  annoyed  him. 
He  hadn't  wanted  to  come  by  here,  anyway; 
252 


THE    BIG    IDEA 

and  if  these  people  were  going  to  stop  all  day 
and  gab,  he  might  miss  the  ball  game. 

Jim  Warren  was  self-appointed  master  of 
ceremonies. 

"Mr.  Chisholm,"  he  requested,  "will  you 
please  state  the  conditions  under  which  Box 
I3I3»  which  is  held  in  my  name,  may  be 
opened  ?" 

Mr.  Chisholm  recited  the  whole  rigmarole 
and  produced  his  copy  of  the  written  agree 
ment. 

"That  agreement  has  never  been  violated?" 
Jim  Warren  asked. 

"It  has  not  been,  certainly,"  was  the  reply. 
"You  have  the  only  key  to  the  box  and  you 
have  never  been  inside  the  vault  except  with 
these  two  witnesses  and  myself."  He  indicated 
the  clerks. 

Jim  Warren  produced  the  key  and  thrust  it 
into  the  lock.   There  was  a  sharp  click  as  he 
turned  it  once ;  then,  with  his  hand  on  the  knob, 
he  faced  the  huddled  group. 
253 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

"We're  going  to  make  some  political  history 
now,"  he  remarked.  "It  will  be  mighty  un 
pleasant,  but  history,  nevertheless." 

He  pulled  the  door  open.  There  was  a  cran 
ing  of  necks  to  see  what  the  box  contained. 
Seemingly  there  were  only  a  dozen  or  more 
long  envelopes;  no,  two  dozen,  .three  dozen — 
each  sealed  and  numbered.  Jim  Warren  stood 
aside  and  took  a  note-book  from  his  pocket. 

"Now,  officer,"  he  requested,  "will  you  take 
out  those  envelopes,  one  at  a  time,  and  give  me 
the  numbers,  please?" 

The  plain-clothes  man  thrust  in  a  red,  hairy 
hand  and  brought  forth  the  first  packet — a 
bulky  one. 

"Number  thirty-nine,"  he  read. 

Jim  Warren  consulted  his  note-book. 

"Number  thirty-nine,"  he  repeated.  "Fifty 
thousand  dollars  in  marked  five-hundred-dol 
lar  bills,  paid  to  me  by  one  Franques,  as  agent 
of  the  O.  &  X.  Railroad,  to  be  divided  in  the 
Committee  on  Public  Structures  to  secure  a 
254 


THE    BIG    IDEA 

favorable  report  on  an  amendment  that  gives 
the  Q.  &  X.  the  right  to  run  its  trains  across  a 
public  bridge.  Now,  officer,  please  tear  off  the 
outer  envelope,  and  inside  you  will  find  another 
with  affidavits  of  Mr.  Chisholm  here,  and  these 
two  clerks,  showing  that  the  packet  was  depos 
ited  in  that  box  less  than  two  hours  ago." 

The  officer  obeyed  dumbly.  Inside,  every 
thing  was  according  to  specifications.  With 
nervous  fingers  he  ripped  open  the  inner  en 
velope.  Money,  money,  money!  His  eyes 
bulged  at  the  yellowbacks  of  it.  He  had  never 
before  seen  fifty  thousand  dollars  all  at  once. 

"Count  the  money  and  keep  that  and  all  the 
envelopes,  officer,"  Jim  Warren  directed.  "You 
will  need  them  for  evidence.  Now  the  next 
one." 

Again  the  officer  thrust  in  his  hand. 

"Number  thirty-eight,"  he  called. 

"Seven  hundred  and  fifty  dollars;  my  share 
of  three  thousand  dollars  paid  to  Dalrymple, 
Matthews,  Tyson  and  myself,  as  members  of 

255 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

Public  Structures,  for  reporting  favorably  a 
bill  for  cement  work  on  the  docks  in  the  lower 
basin,"  Jim  Warren  read.  "The  next,  please." 

"Number  thirty-seven." 

"Two  thousand  dollars;  my  share  of  ten 
thousand  dollars  paid  to  Weston,  Blakely, 
Chester  and  Hall,  of  the  Committee  on  Rail 
roads,  in  consideration  of  an  adverse  report 
on  a  street  railway  franchise  that  would  have 
been  a  competing  line."  He  read  it  off  glibly. 

"Number  Thirty-six." 

"Two  hundred  and  fifty  dollars;  my  share  of 
fifteen  thousand  dollars  paid  to  sixty  members 
of  the  House  for  the  defeat  of  the  pure  milk 
bill.  In  the  inner  envelope  you'll  find  a  list  of 
the  men  who  accepted  the  bribe  along  with  me." 

The  plain-clothes  man  drew  out  the  list  and 
scanned  it.  There  was  a  unanimous  movement 
of  the  reporters  in  his  direction.  He  thrust  the 
list  into  a  pocket. 

"The  district  attorney  first,"  he  said. 

It  was  a  grateful  break  in  the  silence  of  won- 
256 


THE    BIG    IDEA 

der  that  had  fallen  upon  the  group.  Jim  War 
ren  glanced  at  the  reporters,  nodded  and 
smiled;  they  understood.  Then  his  sky-blue 
eyes  traveled  over  all  reflectively.  Lewis,  white 
to  the  gills,  was  merely  gazing  at  him  dumbly, 
fascinated;  Franques'  beady  eyes  were  im 
penetrable;  President  Chisholm  was  standing 
with  his  mouth  half  open — staring,  staring. 
Only  the  reporters  were  keenly  alive,  alert — 
the  reporters  and  Jim  Warren.  Some  of  them 
had  already  exhausted  their  note-paper  and 
were  scribbling  on  their  cuffs.  Jim  Warren 
tore  out  the  back  of  his  book  and  distributed  it 
among  them. 

So  the  roll-call  went  on — that  roll-call  of 
shame.  Names  that  had  never  been  touched 
by  the  breath  of  scandal  were  here ;  and  always, 
ever  recurrent  like  the  tolling  of  a  bell,  was  the 
name  of  Tyson.  The  nervous  tension  broke  at 
last;  the  mere  mention  of  Tyson  brought  a 
snicker,  a  laugh,  a  hysterical  guffaw.  Oddly 
it  occurred  to  Jim  Warren  that  these  men  were 
257 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

going  mad  about  him.  There  was  nothing,  no 
body,  left  for  them  to  believe  in.  For  the  first 
time  there  came  a  doubt  as  to  the  wisdom  of 
this  thing  he  had  done.  He,  himself,  hadn't 
realized  the  sweeping  dishonor  he  had  brought 
upon  his  state.  Rotten  it  was — yes,  he  had 
known  that;  but  this — this —  He  gritted  his 
teeth ;  the  work  went  on. 

"Twenty-seven,"  said  the  plain-clothes  of 
ficer  at  last. 

"Please  lay  that  aside,"  Jim  Warren  re 
quested. 

"Ain't  you  going  to  open  it  ?" 

"I  am — at  the  proper  time." 

He  turned  deliberately  and  his  eyes  lingered 
on  Lewis'  face  for  a  scant  instant.  Again, 
when  number  nine  was  called  he  asked  that 
that  be  laid  aside,  and  for  the  second  time  he 
glanced  at  Lewis.  Finally  came  number  one, 
and  there  remained  in  the  box  just  one  other 
packet — a  long,  legal-looking  envelope  which 
seemed  to  contain  only  a  single  sheet  of  paper. 
258 


THE    BIG    IDEA 

Jim  Warren  took  number  one  and  turned  upon 
Lewis  savagely. 

"You  started  it  all,  Lewis,"  he  exclaimed 
passionately.  "Number  one  is  yours — your 
original  fifteen  hundred  dollars;  and  here  is 
your  next — one  thousand/'  He  picked  up  en 
velope  number  nine.  "And  your  next — one 
thousand."  He  picked  up  number  twenty- 
seven,  and  ripped  the  three  of  them  open  fever 
ishly.  Bills  came  out  and  crackled  in  his 
fingers.  "Here's  your  filthy  money,  Lewis, 
every  cent  of  it !" — and  he  flung  it  straight  into 
the  ashen  face  before  him.  Deliberately,  with 
eyes  fixed  upon  Lewis',  he  tore  the  three  en 
velopes  to  bits  and  they  dribbled  down  at  his 
feet.  "You're  safe  so  far  as  I  am  concerned. 
I  can't  appear  against  you.  I'm  going  to  let 
you  out  for  the  sake  of  a  woman  who  believed 
in  you." 

Lewis  stooped  and  mechanically  began  to 
gather  up  the  bills  from  the  floor.  Jim  Warren 
took  a  step  forward  and  stood  looking  down 
259 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

upon  him  with  clenched  fists  upraised.  The 
plain-clothes  man  stopped  him  with  a  gesture. 
Quite  himself  again,  Jim  Warren  turned  to  the 
reporters. 

"To  summarize,  gentlemen,"  he  said  quietly, 
"I  have  been  in  the  legislature  about  six 
months ;  and  in  that  time  there  has  been  paid  to 
me  in  the  form  of  bribes  and  considerations  of 
various  sorts  a  sum  total  of  about  eighty-two 
thousand  dollars.  This,  of  course,  includes  the 
fifty  thousand  dollars  paid  to  me  this  morning 
by  Franques  here.  That  was  never  intended  as 
a  bribe.  It  was  a  trap ;  every  bill  was  marked. 
Franques  set  the  trap;  I  carefully  arranged  that 
he  might  do  it.  It's  a  little  personal  matter  be 
tween  us — eh,  Franques?"  There  was  no  an 
swer.  "Eight-two  thousand  dollars,  gentle 
men,"  Jim  Warren  continued  reflectively ;  "and 
that  is  only  a  part  of  the  graft  of  this  session. 
Altogether,  seventy-one  members  out  of  a  total 
of  two  hundred  and  forty-eight  are  implicated. 
Their  names  are  all  there." 
260 


THE   BIG   IDEA 

Then,  as  he  stood,  something  seemed  to  snap 
within  him.  The  reaction  had  come.  He 
turned  away  and  fell  back  limp  against  the  steel 
bars  of  the  vault,  his  face  in  his  hands.  In  the 
silence  eye  met  eye  inquiringly.  What  did  it 
all  mean  ?  What  was  the  man  driving  at  ?  Was 
it  merely  a  confession?  Or  was  there  some 
deeper  significance?  Pent-up  curiosity  burst 
into  questions — a  dozen  of  them,  a  thousand. 
The  little  throng  broke  all  at  once  into  a  bab 
bling. 

By  an  effort  Jim  Warren  threw  off  the  weak 
ness  that  seemed  to  be  crushing  him. 

"God  only  knows  the  lies  I  have  told,  the 
tricks  I  have  played,  the  deceptions  I  have  prac 
tised  to  make  all  this  possible,"  he  said  bitterly. 
"For  six  months  I  have  lived  in  an  atmosphere 
polluted  by  the  filth  and  stench  of  dishonesty. 
I  had  to  bring  myself  down  to  the  moral  level 
of  these  two."  He  turned  fiercely  upon 
Franques  and  Lewis.  "I  did  it.  There  is  not  a 
grafter  in  the  legislature,  not  a  corruptionist  in 
261 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

the  lobby,  not  a  crook  in  all  the  game,  that  I 
haven't  met  and  done  business  with.  I  was  one 
of  them.  I  lived  their  lives.  I  got  my  share 
and  more,  all  with  one  purpose  in  view— the 
cleaning  out  of  men  of  their  ilk." 

Puzzled  glances  passed  from  man  to  man. 
Jim  Warren  stared  dully  at  the  mute  inquiry 
in  the  faces  of  these  men. 

"Haven't  I  made  myself  clear?"  he  asked. 
"Don't  you  see  it  was  all  a  put-up  job?  That  I 
have  taken  their  bribes  only  in  order  to  jail 
them  ?  That  every  cent  I  have  taken  is  there  ? 
Don't  you  see?" 

"Ah,  tell  it  to  Sweeney!"  Lewis  broke  out 
suddenly.  "You  were  caught  with  the  goods 
and  now  you're  trying  to  get  out.  You,  the 
honest  labor  man !  You,  the  man  whom  money 
couldn't  touch !  You,  the — " 

"Just  a  minute,  please,"  Jim  Warren  inter 
rupted  curtly.  "Don't  you  gentlemen  get  what 
I'm  driving  at?"  This  to  the  reporters. 

"You  see,  Mr.  Warren,"  one  of  them  ven- 
262 


THE   BIG    IDEA 

tured  hesitatingly,  "it  might  be  either  way — as 
you  say  or  as  Mr.  Lewis  says.  Of  course,  the 
manner  in  which  it  all  came  about  would  have 
to  be  considered;  so — " 

He  stopped.  Mr.  Chisholm  came  forward 
and  laid  a  friendly  hand  on  Jim  Warren's 
shoulder.  Jim  Warren  looked  around  at  him 
blankly. 

"The  sealed  packet  you  first  deposited  in  the 
vault,"  Mr.  Chisholm  reminded  him. 

Jim  Warren  seemed  dazed.  After  a  moment 
the  light  of  understanding  flashed  in  his  eyes. 
He  hadn't  thought  of  that  packet  in  the  stress 
of  all  that  had  gone  before.  He  turned  to  the 
plain-clothes  man. 

"There's  one  more  envelope  in  the  box,"  he 
said.  "Be  good  enough  to  note  the  date  on  that 
envelope  and  on  the  affidavits  attached;  then 
open  it  and  read  the  statement  inside. 

The  officer  drew  forth  the  packet. 

"  'Deposited  September  twenty-second,  in 
presence  of  three  witnesses,  whose  affidavits 
263 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

are  attached  hereto,'  "  he  read  on  the  back  of 
the  envelope.  Then  he  read  the  affidavits. 

"Please  remember  that  the  election  was  on 
November  fifteenth,"  Jim  Warren  requested. 

The  plain-clothes  man  drew  a  single  type 
written  sheet  from  the  envelope,  glanced  at  it, 
cleared  his  throat  and  read : 

"This  statement  is  deposited,  as  the  date  on 
the  envelope  will  show,  nearly  two  months  be 
fore  election.  It  is  a  declaration  of  principles. 

"I  have  made  a  deal  by  which  Franques  is 
to  betray  Francis  Everard  Lewis  into  my 
hands.  There  is  every  possibility  that  I  will 
be  elected  to  succeed  Lewis,  in  which  event  I 
pledge  myself — 

"First :  To  break  my  bargain  with  Franques 
and  rid  myself  of  him  immediately  after  elec 
tion.  I  don't  know  his  motives.  I  only  know 
he  is  a  crook  and  he  thinks  I'm  a  fool. 

"Second :  With  the  one  idea  of  cleaning  out 
the  grafters  and  corruptionists,  who  are  re- 
264 


THE    BIG   IDEA 

puted  to  be  practically  in  control  of  the  legis 
lative  machinery  of  this  state,  I  shall  play  their 
own  game  and  accept  every  bribe,  every  recom 
pense  in  any  form,  that  is  offered  to  me. 

"Third :  As  these  moneys  come  into  my  pos 
session  I  shall  deposit  them  in  this  vault,  with 
the  name  of  every  man  whom  I  know  to  have 
shared  the  bribe. 

"Fourth :  I  pledge  myself  to  open  this  vault 
in  the  presence  of  witnesses  and  make  public 
its  contents  on  or  before  June  sixth,  following 
this  date,  in  the  manner  that  seems  most  fit- 
ting." 

There  was  a  long,  tence  silence.  Came  at 
last  a  deep  breath  of  relief  from  the  press  col 
lectively,  then  a  rush  of  questions.  The  re 
porters  saw  it  at  last.  'Twas  all  a  trick,  a  put- 
up  job,  just  as  he  had  explained.  The  ultimate 
effect  of  it  no  man  might  tell. 

"Boys,  I'd  like  to  call  your  attention  to  the 
fact  that  to-day  is  June  fourth,"  said  Jim  War- 
265 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

fen.  "I'll  just  add  that,  after  I  understood  the 
crookedness  existing  in  the  state,  this  came  to 
me  as  a  possible  way  of  exposing  it  all  and 
ridding  the  state  of  the  men  who  are  responsi 
ble  for  it.  It  was  a  sort  of  joke  at  first.  It 
didn't  strike  me  as  being  very  serious.  I  knew 
they  played  the  game  with  marked  cards;  I 
thought  it  would  be  amusing  to  sit  in  their 
game  with  cards  of  my  own  marking.  I  didn't 
dream  of  the  disaster  that  would  come,  for  it  is 
a  disaster.  Our  state  will  be  the  laughing 
stock  of  the  world,  but  it  will  be  clean.  After 
all,  that  was  what  I  was  aiming  at." 

He  stopped  and  gazed  straight  into  the  eyes 
of  Franques  and  Lewis — gazed  until  they 
looked  away.  Neither  said  a  word. 

"Just  one  other  thing,  boys,"  he  went  on. 
"Financially  I  am  ruined.  I  spent  every  penny 
I  had  in  the  world  living  up  to  this  reputation 
of  a  grafter  which  I  had  built  about  myself." 
He  smiled  wearily.  "This  is  my  record — all  of 
it.  Please  say  for  me  that  I  am  standing  on 
266 


THE   BIG    IDEA 

that  record  as  a  candidate  for  governor  of  this 
state."  He  extended  both  hands  toward  the 
plain-clothes  man.  "I  am  your  prisoner.  Are 
you  going  to  put  handcuffs  on  me  ?" 


267 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

FRANQUES   PAYS  A   DEBT 

HUGE,  startled-looking  type  blared  the 
story  of  graft  to  the  world  along  with 
the  extraordinary  manner  of  its  revealing, 
whereupon  Jim  Warren's  state  rose  up  and 
bellowed  its  indignation  at  the  conditions  he 
had  shown.  He  had  fired  the  fuse — the  bomb 
of  public  wrath  blew  up  with  a  roar  that  was 
heard  all  over  the  country.  Immaculate  repu 
tations,  shorn  to  their  bare  pelts,  scuttled  hither 
and  thither,  seeking  a  knot-hole  wherein  to  hide 
their  nakedness  from  the  mighty  blast  of  pop 
ular  fury.  There  was  a  bandying  of  epithets, 
of  threats,  of  ugly  phrases,  of  recrimination; 
a  laying  together  of  cunning  political  heads  and 
a  sudden  and  mysterious  thinning  out  of  those 
legislators  whose  names  occupied  the  more  con- 
268 


FRANQUES   PAYS   A   DEBT 

spicuous  places  on  the  roll  of  dishonor.  The 
newspapers,  always  intrinsically  right,  flung  a 
slogan  across  the  sky:  "Clean  the  capitol! 
Complete  the  work  Jim  Warren  has  begun!" 
It  was  a  tribute  to  the  maker  of  plows.  He  had 
done  the  impossible  thing. 

On  the  afternoon  of  his  arrest  Jim  Warren 
had  been  arraigned  and  remanded  in  the  cus 
tody  of  his  attorney.  Afterward  he  had  re 
turned  to  his  apartments  at  the  hotel  and  there 
wearily  he  had  flung  himself  down  to  think 
upon  many  things.  He  had  turned  the  trick! 
He  had  no  fears  as  to  his  future;  the  public 
would  take  care  of  that.  Its  stamp  of  approval 
was  already  his;  .  .  .  but  would  she  ap 
prove?  After  all,  her  approval  meant  more 
than  anything  else  in  the  whole  world.  Even 
if  she  did  approve,  what  would  come  after? 
...  If  only  her  father,  D wight  Tillinghast, 
had  withdrawn  as  he  had  requested !  Of  course 
he  couldn't  give  him  any  inkling  of  what  was  to 
come,  but — if  he  only  had! 
269 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

The  telephone  rang. 

"Mr.  Franques  is  in  the  office,  sir,"  said  the 
operator.  "He  wants  to  know  if  you  can  see 
him  in  your  committee-room  to-morrow  morn 
ing  at  half-past  ten?" 

"Franques!"  Jim  Warren  repeated  in  per 
plexity.  He  was  thoughtful  for  a  second. 
"Tell  him  yes,"  he  directed. 

Fulsome  praise  in  the  morning  papers 
brought  no  exultation  to  Jim  Warren.  There 
was  little  criticism  of  the  methods  he  had  em 
ployed  to  bare  the  rottenness  of  it  all — radical 
methods,  yes;  unheard  of,  even;  but  evidently 
they  had  been  necessary.  Obviously  here  was  a 
reformer  who  was  bent  upon  reforming.  Re 
gardless  of  the  manner  of  it,  the  power  of  the 
press  was  pledged  to  him  unanimously.  Jim 
Warren  merely  glanced  at  the  morning  head 
lines  and  went  his  way  to  the  capitol.  Here 
was  public  approval;  .  .  .  but  would  she 
approve  ? 

There  was  a  sudden  and  tense  silence  in  the 
270 


FRANQUES    PAYS    A   DEBT 

legislative  chamber  when  Jim  Warren  entered, 
five  minutes  after  the  speaker's  gavel  had  fal 
len.  He  glanced  over  the  huge  hall  once — it 
was  dotted  here  and  there  by  an  unoccupied 
desk — then  went  on  to  his  seat.  Three  or 
four  men  came  over  and  spoke  to  him.  Their 
voices  were  very  far  away;  it  was  of  no  conse 
quence  what  they  said.  There  was  only  one 
thought  in  his  mind:  .  .  .  Would  she  ap 
prove  ? 

Sharply  at  half -past  ten  o'clock  Franques' 
card  was  laid  on  Jim  Warren's  desk;  he  arose 
and  went  into  the  committee-room.  Franques, 
shabby,  dusty-looking,  lank,  was  standing  be 
side  the  long  table  twisting  his  hat  idly  in  his 
hands.  There  was  something  pathetic  in  the 
bent  figure ;  the  inscrutable  face  challenged  his 
curiosity. 

"Good  morning,  Franques,"  he  greeted  pleas 
antly. 

"Good  morning,  sir,"  Franques  said  deferen 
tially.  He  shambled  a  little  as  he  stood.  "I 
271 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

sort  of  felt,  sir,  that  I  had  an  explanation  com 
ing  to  you,  and — " 

"Not  at  all,"  Jim  Warren  interrupted  cour 
teously.  "You  owed  me  something  unpleasant 
for  the  turndown  I  gave  you  six  or  eight 
months  ago.  You  framed  up  this  bribe  to  pay 
for  it,  after  I  had  made  it  possible ;  but  it  just 
so  happened  that  your  plan  fitted  into  mine." 

"It  isn't  that,  sir,"  Franques  explained.  He 
glanced  up  at  the  clock.  "After  to-day  it's 
hardly  probable  that  you  will — will  see  me 
again,  and  I  felt  that  I  wanted  to  make  you 
understand  that  I  think  what  you've — you've 
done  is  right.  I  thought  it  all  out  yesterday 
afternoon  and  last  night.  I — I  just  wanted  to 
tell  you." 

There  was  a  strange  softening  about  the  evil 
eyes,  a  tremor  about  the  rigid,  thin-lipped 
mouth. 

"I'm  getting  to  be  an  old  man,  Mr.  Warren," 
Franques  went  on  slowly,  "and  I've  been  a 
crook  all  my  life.  I'm  tired  of  it;  and  I'm  not 
272 


FRANQUES    PAYS    A    DEBT 

all  bad,  sir.  I've  picked  pockets  and  forged 
checks,  and  snatched  purses  and  looted  houses. 
That's  how  I  met  Lewis  ten  or  twelve  years 
ago.  He  was  practising  law  at  the  time  and  he 
got  me  out  of  some  trouble.  After  that  I  came 
to  work  for  him.  You  know  how — " 

"I  know,  yes,"  said  Jim  Warren;  "but  why 
are  you  telling  me  all  this?" — curiously. 

"I  don't  know,  sir,"  was  the  reply.  There 
was  a  mistiness  in  the  evil  eyes ;  again  Franques 
glanced  up  at  the  clock.  "I  don't  know.  I  only 
thought  I  wanted  you  to  know.  I  won't  see 
you  any  more,  or — "  He  stopped  and  mut 
tered  incoherently. 

"You're  going  away,  then?"  Jim  Warren 
was  puzzled. 

"Yes,  sir — for  all  time!" — hesitatingly. 
"You  see,  Lewis  and  my  daughter — I  had  a 
daughter" — he  rambled  on  irrelevantly — 
"Lewis  and  my  daughter — until  he  met  Miss 
Tillinghast,  you  understand.  She  is  dead,  sir 
— my  daughter.  .  .  .  She  was  to  be  Lewis' 
273 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

wife.  ...  It  was  grief.  ...  I  tried  to 
smash  Lewis — ruin  him;  you  upset  my  plans. 
.  .  .  He  doesn't  know  she's  dead.  .  .  . 
It's  just  as  well.  .  .  .  He  will  be  here  in  a 
few  minutes  now." 

.  .  .  There  came  a  murmurous,  menacing 
roar  through  the  open  windows.  Jim  Warren 
turned  away  from  Franques  and  glanced  out. 
It  was  a  crowd,  a  throng,  a  mob — swarming  up 
the  hill  toward  the  capitol.  Blue-coated  police 
men  struggled  vainly  here  and  there  to  restrain 
them.  .  .  .  Franques  was  staring  at  Jim 
Warren  glassily. 

"He  will  be  here  in  a  few  minutes,"  he  re 
peated  dully. 

"Who  will  be  here  ?"  Jim  Warren  demanded 
sharply. 

"Lewis,  sir,"  was  the  reply.  "He's  been 
avoiding  me ;  I  haven't  been  able  to  get  to  him ; 
he's  afraid  of  me.  So  last  night  I  wrote  him  a 
note,  sir,  asking  him  to  come  here  at  eleven 
o'clock;  and  I  signed  your  name  to  it.  He 
274 


FRANQUES    PAYS    A   DEBT 

thinks  he  can  make  a  deal  with  you.  He 
wouldn't  have  come  otherwise."  He  laughed 
vacantly. 

"Signed  my  name  to  it?"  Jim  Warren  re 
peated  in  bewilderment.  "What  for?  What 
are  you  driving  at?  .Why  do  you  want  him 
here?" 

.  .  .  The  mob  was  just  outside,  under 
neath  the  windows  of  the  capitol,  bawling  im 
precations,  jeering,  hooting.  Now  and  then, 
rhythmically  from  a  thousand  throats,  came  the 
cry :  "Clean  the  capitol !"  Again  Jim  Warren 
glanced  out  of  the  window  anxiously,  with 
apprehension  on  his  freckled  face.  .  .  . 

"Why  did  you  want  Lewis  here?"  He  had 
turned  upon  Franques. 

"I'm  going  to  kill  him,  sir,"  said  Franques 
simply. 

"Franques!"     Jim  Warren  seized  this  man 
who  was  growing  old,  going  mad  here  before 
his  very  eyes.    "Franques !    What's  the  matter 
with  you?    Are  you  crazy?" 
275 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

"I'm  going  to  kill  him!"  Franques  repeated. 

.  .  .  The  incoherent  roar  of  the  mob  cho 
rused  individual  names  now.  "Lewis!"  Re 
peated  a  dozen  times,  it  came  hurtling  through 
the  windows.  "Tyson!"  and  "Dalrymple!"  and 
"Hall!"  and  the  rest  of  them.  Smouldering 
anger  had  burst  into  flame.  Here  was  outraged 
decency  bent  upon  destruction.  .  .  . 

The  door  opened  suddenly  and  Lewis,  white- 
faced,  stepped  into  the  room.  Franques  saw 
him  and  laughed  outright.  His  right  hand 
darted  to  his  hip  pocket  and  Jim  Warren  caught 
the  glint  of  a  nickeled  revolver  as  it  was 
raised  again.  He  brought  one  clenched  fist 
down  in  a  sweeping,  smashing  blow.  It  caught 
Franques'  wrist  and  the  revolver  clattered  on 
the  floor.  Jim  Warren  picked  it  up.  Lewis, 
motionless,  pallid,  was  merely  looking  on. 

"Franques,  don't  make  a  fool  of  yourself!" 
Jim  Warren  said,  not  unkindly.  "You're  not 
well." 

276 


FRANQUES    PAYS    A   DEBT 

Franques  was  staring  down  at  his  limp  right 
hand. 

"I  think  you've  broken  my  wrist,  sir,"  he 
said. 

Suddenly  his  face  went  white  beneath  its 
swarthiness;  he  reeled  and  collapsed.  Jim 
Warren  gathered  him  up  as  he  would  a  child 
and  laid  him  upon  the  couch.  Again  the  door 
opened  and  an  excited  messenger  from  the 
chamber  thrust  in  his  head. 

"The  speaker  wants  you  in  the  house  at 
once,  sir,"  he  said  to  Jim  Warren  hurriedly. 

Jim  Warren  nodded ;  the  messenger  vanished 
as  swiftly  as  he  had  come. 

"Lewis,"  and  Jim  Warren's  voice  was  one  of 
quick  command,  "when  I  go  out  of  this  room 
lock  the  door  behind  me.  Don't  let  any  one 
enter  in  my  absence;  and  if  you  love  yourself 
don't  show  your  face  at  either  of  those  win 
dows.  They're  mad  with  anger  out  there. 
They  want  you.  What  they  would  do  to  you, 
277 


THE   HIGH   HAND 

you  can  guess.  I'll  try  to  disperse  the  crowd. 
When  they  have  gone — all  of  'em — you  may 
unlock  the  door  and  go.  And  see  that  Franques 
gets  out  all  right.  That's  all." 

Jim  Warren  ran  lightly  along  the  hall  toward 
the  chamber.  As  he  entered,  Dalrymple's  voice 
came  shrilly  above  the  hubbub  of  the  mob. 

"The  governor  should  call  out  the  troops!" 
he  shouted.  "It's  revolution.  Our  lives  are 
not  safe!" 

"It's  the  protest  of  honesty  against  the 
damnable  crookedness  of  men  of  your  type!" 
Jim  Warren  shouted  from  the  center  of  the 
floor.  He  turned  to  the  speaker:  "I  am  in 
formed,  sir,"  he  said  in  quite  another  tone, 
"that  you  want  me." 

"This  mob,"  and  Tillinghast  waved  a  hand 
toward  the  outside — "they're  threatening  vio 
lence.  You  are  responsible  for  this.  Can  you 
stop  it?" 

"Thank  God,  I  am  responsible  for  it!"  re 
torted  Jim  Warren. 

278 


FRANQUES   PAYS   A   DEBT 

He  strode  down  the  aisle,  through  a  window 
and  out  upon  the  balcony  overlooking  the 
crowd.  The  jeering  became  a  cheering,  a  roll 
ing  wave  of  approbation.  Jim  Warren,  quiz 
zical  of  eye  and  with  that  whimsical  grin  upon 
his  lips,  stepped  to  the  front  of  the  balcony  and 
lifted  his  hand.  Instantly  there  was  silence, 
broken  by  a  voice  he  knew : 

"Oh,  you  Jim  Warren!  You  went  to  'em, 
didn't  you,  boy  ?" 

"Hello  there,  Bob  Allaire!"  Jim  Warren 
called. 

There  was  a  roar  of  laughter.  When  it  had 
subsided  anger  had  passed ;  there  remained  only 
a  crowd  of  a  thousand  or  more  men,  smiling 
and  expectant. 

"Now,  boys,"  said  Jim  Warren  quietly,  "we 
appreciate  this  little  visit,  but  you're  interfering 
with  the  business  of  the  capitol.  We're  not 
going  to  do  anything  foolish,  but  we're  all  go 
ing  home  to  dinner,  aren't  we  ?  Take  my  word 
for  it — there  won't  be  any  more  crooks  up  here 
279 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

for  three  years  to  come,  because  I'm  going  t 
be  the  next  governor  of  this  state.    Am  I  ?" 

"You  are !"  It  was  a  mighty  bellowing,  an 
it  went  ringing  down  the  streets  for  ten  mir 
utes,  as  the  crowd  went  about  its  business. 


280 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

THE   LAST    STAND 

FROM  his  eerie  office,  overlooking  the  city 
of  New  York,  Mr.  Pointer  loosed  the 
terse  command  of  the  combined  interests: 
"Smash  Jim  Warren!"  In  the  solitude  of  his 
apartments  in  the  city  of  Sandringham,  Lewis 
pondered  that  deeply  for  forty-eight  hours, 
after  which  he  talked  it  over  with  Dwight  Till- 
inghast  far  into  the  night. 

"There's  still  a  good  chance  for  pulling  you 
through,"  he  assured  the  honorable  speaker. 
"Things  are  not  so  rosy  as  they  were,  but  still 
there's  a  good  chance.  The  interests  are  willing 
to  spend  money — do  you  understand?  The 
primaries  for  the  election  of  delegates  to  the 
convention  that  will  nominate  the  governor  are 
still  some  weeks  off.  If  we  get  to  this  thing 
now  we  can  do  things." 
281 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

"Do  you  mean  that  this  Jim  Warren — this 
maker  of  plows — actually  has  a  chance  to  de 
feat  me?"  Tillinghast  demanded  in  pompous 
astonishment.  "Why,  he's  nobody ;  I'm  worth 
millions."  His  fat  eyes  narrowed  cunningly 
and  he  tapped  Lewis'  knee  with  a  pudgy  finger. 
"I'm  willing  to  spend  some  money  myself.  I 
don't  relish  the  idea  of  being  defeated  by  a — • 
by  a" — he  was  puffing  in  his  indignation — "a 
person  from  the  lower  walks  of  life." 

"Jim  Warren  has  a  chance,  yes,"  Lewis  con 
fessed.  "I've  noticed  that  affairs  in  this  world 
are  not  always  as  we  would  have  them.  These 
'persons  from  the  lower  walks  of  life'  occa 
sionally  butt  in  and  kick  up  a  devil  of  a  row. 
Meanwhile,  if  you're  willing  to  spend  money 
and  the  people  I  represent  are  willing  to  spend 
money,  together  we  may  do  anything." 

"We'll  defeat  Jim  Warren  certainly,"  Til 
linghast  declared. 

After  that  interview  Lewis  betook  himself 
to  New  York  for  a  conference  with  the  spidery, 
282 


THE   LAST    STAND 

crabbed  Mr.  Pointer,  who  furnished  expert 
political  advice  to  the  interests  for  a  considera 
tion.  If  Mr.  Pointer  was  delighted  to  see  him, 
he  concealed  it  most  effectually. 

"A  pretty  mess  you  made  of  it  in  your  state," 
he  complained  crustily. 

"The — the  circumstances  were  unusual," 
Lewis  faltered  in  self-defense. 

"Circumstances  have  nothing  to  do  with  it," 
said  Mr.  Pointer  acridly.  "There  are  no  cir 
cumstances  that  one  can't  twist  around  to  suit 
oneself  if  one  goes  at  it  properly  and  at  the 
right  time.  You'll  remember  I  advised  you  it 
would  be  best  for  you  to  quit  before — " 

"I  couldn't,"  Lewis  expostulated.  "It  would 
have  done  me  as  much  harm  as — " 

"And  instead  of  that  you  insisted  upon  mak 
ing  a  fool  of  yourself !"  Mr.  Pointer  went  on, 
heedless  of  the  interruption.  "Now,  how  are 
you  going  to  elect  your  governor?  Is  Tilling- 
hast  still  your  man  ?" 

"He  is,  yes;  he's  there  to  stick." 
283 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

"Of  course,  he'll  stick,  but  will  he  be  elect 
ed?"  Mr.  Pointer  wanted  to  know.  "I  mean 
will  he  be  even  nominated?  Can  you  pull 
that?  Primaries  are  pretty  close  up  and  this 
man  Jim  Warren  seems  to  have  turned  the 
world  upside  down.  Can  you  nominate  Til- 
linghast  ?" 

Lewis'  face  flushed.  Always  he  had  feared 
this  shriveled  little  man  and  always  he  had 
longed  to  throttle  him.  He  was  merciless,  re 
lentless,  offensively  to  the  point. 

"I'll  not  only  nominate  him,  but  I'll  elect 
him,"  he  boasted  out  of  the  anger  in  his  heart. 
"The  interests  will  have  to  stick  to  me,  of 
course.  It  may  cost  half  a  million  to  do  it," 
he  added  tentatively. 

"The  cost  is  of  no  consequence,"  Mr.  Pointer 
declared  impatiently.  "Show  me  where  you 
spend  your  money — every  cent  of  it — and  your 
vouchers  will  be  honored  up  to  a  quarter  of  a 
million;  let  Tillinghast  put  up  the  rest  of  it. 
We'll  do  this;  but,  if  you  don't  elect  Tilling- 
284 


THE   LAST    STAND 

hast,  that  is  the  end.  It  won't  be  necessary 
even  to  write  me  explaining  why.  We  don't 
want  excuses;  we  want  results.  There  are 
many  things  we  want  to  do  in  your  state  and 
we  must  put  your  man  across.  If  you  don't — 
as  I  said." 

Lewis  nodded  his  head.  He  knew  the  slim 
chance  he  had — no  one  knew  better.  It  was 
to  be  a  fight  for  his  political  existence.  If  it 
failed — 

"You  said  something  about  marrying  Til- 
linghast's  daughter,"  Mr.  Pointer  went  on. 
"Have  you?" 

"Our  marriage  is  to  take  place  immediately 
after  Tillinghast  becomes  governor,"  Lewis  ex 
plained. 

"All  the  better  for  us,"  and  the  little  man 
rasped  his  skinny  hands  together.  "I  think 
you  said  she  was  worth  a  million  in  her  own 
right — eh  ?  You  will  have  another  incentive  to 
put  Tillinghast  through." 

Mr.  Pointer  cackled  dryly  and  leered  at 
285 


THE    HIGH    HAND 

Lewis.  The  one  spark  of  decency  within  Lewis 
flamed  for  an  instant,  then  was  extinguished 
by  his  sordid  lust  of  money. 

"There's  another  matter,  too,"  Mr.  Pointer 
resumed.  "You  never  returned  those  original 
letters  to  me." 

"Well — er — the  fact  is,  the  matter  had 
slipped  my  mind,"  Lewis  apologized  lamely. 
"The  necessity  for — " 

"The  matter  hasn't  slipped  mine,"  inter 
rupted  the  little  man  curtly.  "Your  real  pur 
pose  in  hanging  on  to  them,  of  course,  is  to  try 
to  hold  us  up  if  we  throw  you  down.  Is  that 
the  scheme?  We'll  just  stop  that.  I'll  take 
the  responsibility  if  Jim  Warren  produces  the 
photographs  at  any  time." 

"But — "  Lewis  started  to  protest. 

"No  buts  about  it,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Pointer. 
"Either  send  me  those  originals  at  once  or  we'll 
call  off  everything  and  I'll  put  the  campaign  in 
that  state  in  the  hands  of  another  man."  His 
thin,  piping  voice  hardened.  "When  you  send 
286 


THE   LAST    STAND 
those  letters  you  may  consider  this  other  deal 


on.' 


"I've  read  all  of  it — every  line  of  every 
thing,"  Edna  was  saying. 

"Was  I  right  or  wrong?"  Jim  Warren  in 
sisted. 

"I  don't  know,"  the  girl  declared  helplessly. 
Her  slim  fingers  were  interlaced  tightly.  "It 
was  all  so  horrid  and  strange  and  dishonest  I 
don't  know !" 

With  darkened  brows,  Jim  Warren  stood 
looking  down  upon  the  sheen  of  her  hair.  For 
a  long  time  he  said  nothing.  It  had  been  weary 
waiting  and  he  had  lost.  His  lips  were  crushed 
together. 

"I  didn't  know  anything  about  politics  until 
less  than  a  year  ago,"  he  said  at  last,  "but  it 
seems  that  the  game,  at  least  in  this  state,  has 
been  honeycombed  with  dishonesty  and  graft 
for  years.  It  was  an  evil !  The  right  man  in 
the  right  place  could  remedy  it.  I  took  the 
287 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

only  way — and,  whatever  else  may  result  from 
it,  I  won.  You  I  have  lost,  but  the  state  is  clean 
and  will  remain  clean  for  the  next  three  years." 

Edna  raised  her  eyes  and  stared  at  him 
breathlessly.  His  face  was  set,  his  eyes  smoul 
dering;  and  yet  beneath  the  fire  of  them  was  a 
— a  something  that  caused  her  to  look  down 
again. 

"You  hope  to  be  the  next  governor?"  she 
asked. 

"I  will  be  the  next  governor.  I've  got  to  be 
the  next  governor  to  finish  the  work  I  have 
started." 

"And  my  father?" — weakly. 

Jim  Warren  turned  away  from  her  suddenly. 
The  highest  office  in  his  state  was  his  by  right 
— he  had  gone  through  mire  and  mud  to  win  it. 
Her  father !  There  came  a  powerful  revulsion 
of  feeling — and,  after  a  little,  a  strange,  quix 
otic  idea.  After  all,  did  his  state  need  him  as 
he  needed  her?  He  extended  his  clenched 
hands  toward  her. 

288 


THE   LAST    STAND 

"Shall  I  withdraw?"  he  asked. 

She  shook  her  head. 

"I  don't  know ;  it  wouldn't  be  fair." 

"Would  it  make  you  any  happier  if  I  with 
drew?" 

"Please — please !"  She  extended  both  hands 
in  a  pleading  gesture  he  knew. 

"Yes  or  no?"  He  seized  her  hands  and 
dragged  her  to  her  feet.  "Yes  or  no?  It's 
with  you."  His  eyes  were  blazing  into  hers. 
"There's  nothing  on  the  face  of  God's  earth  I 
wouldn't  do  for  you,"  he  went  on  passionately. 
"After  all,  I  suppose  I'm  as  bad  or  worse  than 
the  rest  of  them;  I,  too,  was  a  grafter.  Yes 
or  no?" 

She  looked  away  and  struggled  to  free  her 
hands. 

"Look  at  me !"  he  commanded  sharply. 

"I'm  very  tired,"  she  said.    "Let  me  go." 

"Yes  or  no?" 

Slowly  she  raised  her  head  and  her  lids  lifted 
until  her  wonder  eyes,  dim  with  tears,  met  his. 
289 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

In  them  he  read  an  answer — not  an  answer  to 
the  sordid  question,  but  an  answer  to  the  one 
question  that  had  been  tormenting  him.  He 
drew  her  into  his  arms  gently,  very  gently — 
and  leaning  over  he  pressed  his  lips  to  hers. 
She  closed  her  eyes  and  her  heart  seemed  stilled 
by  the  sheer  joy  of  her  awakening. 

Dwight  Tillinghast  entered  the  room,  fol 
lowed  by  Lewis.  Edna  struggled ;  Jim  Warren 
held  her  close,  close,  and  met  the  eyes  of  the 
other  two  men  defiantly. 

"She's  mine !"  he  declared  harshly.  "Mine ! 
— do  you  understand  ?" 


290 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

THE   NEXT   GOVERNOR 

THE  moral  sense  of  a  rich  man,  dulled  by 
ambition,  came  to  itself  in  the  next  few 
weeks.  When  the  session  had  closed  and  the 
grand  jury  had  duly  whitewashed  those  legis 
lative  grafters  who  dared  to  remain  for  it — and 
as  duly  indicted  those  who  incontinently  fled — 
then,  and  not  until  then,  did  Dwight  Tillinghast 
awake  to  a  full  realization  of  the  part  he  had 
played  for  Lewis  and  the  part  he  would  be 
called  upon  to  play  in  the  campaign  for  gov 
ernor.  The  scales  fell  from  his  eyes  and  he 
stood  aghast  at  the  things  he  saw.  He  had 
known  them  all  along  in  a  vague,  hazy  sort  of 
way,  but  somehow  it  was  all  different  now. 
There  was  a  contemptuous  undercurrent  of 
comment  here  and  there  that  penetrated  his 
hypocritical  hide. 

291 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

Still  eager,  still  determined,  he  had  listened 
to  Lewis'  plans  for  the  campaign  against  Jim 
[Warren ;  suddenly  he  saw  that  it  was  hopeless. 
Out  of  that  realization  came  the  thought  that 
he  had  almost  given  his  daughter  to  this  man 
whose  name  had  become  a  stench  in  the  public's 
nostrils — almost  given  her!  Yes,  he  would 
have  driven  her  into  Lewis'  arms  at  one  time. 
He  shuddered  a  little !  After  all,  he  had  merely 
been  a  cat's-paw  for  Lewis;  even  if  he  became 
governor  with  Lewis'  help  it  would  be  the 
same  if  he  would  go  further. 

There  was  a  swish  of  skirts  in  the  hall ;  Edna 
entered,  and  after  her  Jim  Warren.  Tilling- 
hast  rose  and  stood  looking  at  them. 

"Father,  can  you  spare  just  a  moment  ?"  his 
daughter  asked. 

He  nodded.  Instinctively  his  eyes  met  Jim 
Warren's.  Through  the  deep  earnestness  of 
that  cerulean  gaze  he  saw  a  glint  of  that  whim 
sical  boyishness  of  the  maker  of  plows. 

"It's  merely  that  we  want  you  to  answer  a 
292 


THE   NEXT   GOVERNOR 

question,"  Jim  Warren  explained.  "Your 
daughter  hasn't  been  able  to  decide  whether 
she  wants  to  be  the  daughter  of  the  next  gov 
ernor  of  this  state  or  the  wife  of  the  next  gov 
ernor  of  this  state." 

Tillinghast  was  staring  at  him,  speechless; 
his  slow-moving  mind  was  not  attuned  to  in 
tricacies. 

"I — I  don't  understand,"  he  said  after  a  mo 
ment 

"If  I  withdraw  you'll  be  the  next  governor," 
Jim  Warren  continued  frankly,  "and  if  you 
withdraw  I'll  be  the  next  governor.  If  one  of 
us  withdraws  there  is  no  man  in  the  state  who 
can  beat  the  other — he's  elected;  if  one  of  us 
doesn't  withdraw  it  will  be  the  most  corrupt 
campaign  this  state  has  ever  known.  Votes 
are  now  being  bought  right  and  left;  and  you 
see—" 

"I  don't  see  at  all!"  declared  Tillinghast. 

"I  mean — if  your  daughter  says  so — I'll 
withdraw  in  your  favor,"  Jim  Warren  told 
293 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

him.  "That's  the  question  she  can't  answer; 
we  brought  it  to  you." 

For  a  time  Tillinghast  merely  stared  at  them 
in  bewilderment.  Edna  was  looking  into  his 
face  smiling. 

"You  mean,"  he  burst  out  suddenly,  "that, 
after  all  you've  done,  you'll  quit?" 

Jim  Warren  nodded. 

"I  mean  just  that,"  he  said.  "But,  whether 
I  stick  or  quit,  I'll  ask  a  greater  reward  than  all 
that" 

He  was  looking  at  Edna ;  Tillinghast  under 
stood  then.  Suddenly  he  stretched  out  his 
hands  toward  his  daughter ;  she  nestled  against 
his  shoulder,  weeping  softly.  Slowly  his  own 
head  bent  until  his  lips  caressed  her  hair.  The 
maker  of  plows  stood  abashed,  counting  his 
fingers  like  a  school-boy. 

"I  think,"  said  Tillinghast  at  last  slowly— "I 

think  you  had  better  stick,  Mr.  Warren.   I  was 

just  about  making  up  my  mind  that  I'd  had 

enough.    I'm  only  beginning  to  see  how — how 

294 


THE    NEXT    GOVERNOR 

bad  it  all  is.  You've  gone  so  far  in  your  efforts 
to  clean  out  this  state — take  the  fight  on  to  the 
end.  You're  the  man  to  do  it." 

A  graven- faced  servant  entered. 

"Mr.  Francis  Everard  Lewis,"  he  an 
nounced. 

Tillinghast  took  the  hand  Jim  Warren  of 
fered  and  laid  Edna's  in  it.  Then  he  turned 
to  the  servant. 

"Tell  Mr.  Lewis  that  I  am  not  at  home — and 
will  not  be  at  home  to  him  again,"  he  directed. 

It  was  weeks  after  that  day,  when  a  conven 
tion  had  gone  mad  at  the  mere  mention  of  Jim 
Warren's  name,  that  Edna  and  he  were  talking. 
She  was  sitting  gazing  into  the  smouldering 
fire,  with  one  of  his  hands  clasped  between  her 
own. 

"When  did  you  first  realize  that  I — I  liked 
you?"  she  demanded.  "I  don't  mean  loved  you 
— just  liked  you?" 

"The  day  I  found  a  small  cluster  of  violets 

295 


THE   HIGH    HAND 

on  my  desk — the  opening  day  of  the  session," 
he  told  her. 

"Violets?"  she  asked.  "What  violets?  Do 
you  flatter  yourself  that  I  sent  them?  Well,  I 
didn't." 

He  kissed  her ;  she  laughed. 

"Well,  anyway,  I  knew  every  desk  would 
have  flowers  on  it,  except  possibly  yours,  and  I 
didn't  want  you  to  feel  that  no  one  remembered 
you,"  she  explained  "And  you  were  not  sup 
posed  to  know  who  sent  them.  There  was  no 
card." 


THE  END 


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